Unbound
by kiltsaresexy
Summary: Queen Lilyana has been battling with her attraction to the devious Reaver since she was in her teens, but now that she is Queen and he is one of her advisers, the temptation and the mystery shrouding him draws her even closer to him. Rated M for future chapters! R&R and I hope you enjoy!
1. Prologue

**A/N: I just replayed through Fable 3 on PC, and I just had to write a Reaver and Princess/Queen centric story. Hope you enjoy it, and PLEASE leave feedback. I would love to hear it!  
*UPDATE* Unbound has now been finely tuned to correct some slight errors. There is now one completed sequel 'The Bargain' to enjoy, as well as a second sequel 'Resistance' that is currently unfolding! Please follow, favorite, and most importantly (love it or hate it) review! Nothing makes an author want to continue providing great stories more than hearing the thoughts and feedback of the readers, so please take a few moments to leave yours at the end of each chapter!**

-Prologue-

The sun shone bright over the garden behind Bowerstone Castle. I decided to take my reading outside for the day. Elliot had been away for three days now, and I found myself missing him more than I thought. We had been friends all our lives, but over the years it had transformed into something else. I smiled vaguely to myself as I settled down onto a bench by the view of Bowerstone. Elliot's father was ill, and I hoped to The Light that he would come through.

I found my bookmark, and I glanced down to the book. It was the story of The Old Hero King, my father. I missed him desperately. I hadn't really known my mother, so Father was my everything. When he died, the whole nation dipped into a black depression that still hadn't quite lifted. I opened the pages, to find that I was coming up on the introduction of the least favorite of my father's companions. The book referred to him only as The Hero of Skill or the Pirate King.

Father wouldn't go into much detail about the circumstances surrounding the master gunman's recruitment, and the book wasn't clear either. It glossed over a lot of details concerning this man, and I wondered what could be so terrible that it couldn't be published.

When Father was on his deathbed, a mysterious, cloaked man had come to him. I could only assume that was him. The Hero of Skill. He had left the bedchamber clutching his shrouded face, apparently having been punched in the face by my dying father. The morning after the man came, Father died.

I delved back into the story, though I knew every detail by heart. I lost myself in the book, devouring the story over and over again. I craved adventure, and I hoped one day to become a true Hero like my father had been.

Logan stepped into my view with a tall, handsome stranger in a finely tailored suit and a very tall top hat. I set my book down in my lap, and I saw that they were approaching the bench where I sat. I stood, and I curtsied softly to my brother as he approached. He had taken on a rather cold demeanor since he had returned from his trip to Aurora, so I tried to be as obliging as possible.

"Good Afternoon," I greeted them, smiling.

"May I present my sister," Logan said, motioning toward me. "Princess Lilyana."

Logan's companion returned my smile as his eyes drifted slowly over me, making me suddenly very aware of the length of my skirt and the cut of my blouse. "My, my, Your Majesty, I had seen The Princess from far away, but I had never been able to take in her truly breathtaking beauty before."

"Lily," Logan said, "This is Mister Reaver, my new business associate."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Reaver," I said, holding out my hand.

Reaver took it, and he pressed his mouth against my knuckles, his eyes sparkling with a dark playfulness.

I was used to my hand being kissed, but the way he kissed my hand, suggested that it was more than just a greeting. I felt my face blush.

Logan cleared his throat, very obviously annoyed, and Mister Reaver released me, straightening his posture and adjusting his hat.

"I'm glad to see that little friend of yours has finally decided to go home," Logan said.

I pressed my lips into a hard line, but I softened my expression. "Yes, Elliot's father has fallen ill, and he rushed home to spend what may be his last days with him."

Logan's lip twitched, but he just nodded dismissively. The Logan I had grown up with would have taken me into his arms and comforted me, but my brother had become a completely different man since losing his entire fleet in Aurora. He had become hard and cold and distant. I missed him.

"It is quite a beautiful day for some reading," Mister Reaver said, glancing to my book. His eyebrows raised, and his smile broadened. "Are you interested in the tale of your father's heroics?"

I nodded, smiling. "I aspire to be as noble and heroic as he, one day."

Reaver laughed softly to himself, and his eyes drank me in.

I found myself looking over Mister Reaver's face. My heart thudded, and I drew in a deep breath. Something about this man screamed that he was dangerous, but I couldn't help but find him attractive. His face was like a sculpture: with high cheekbones, perfectly arched brows, and a square, chiseled jaw. He belonged in a museum. I was drawn deep into his dark eyes.

When he noticed me inspecting him, he tilted his face to better capture the light, giving the perfect view of every, beautiful angular contour of it..

I blushed and averted my eyes, grasping my book tightly.

"Lilyana, your dancing instructor is probably waiting," Logan said, giving me the very obvious hint to leave the two of them alone to discuss business. "It's his job to teach you how to dance, not to wait for you all hours of the day."

I curtsied, and I bade them each goodbye.

"I hope to see much more of you in the future, Princess," Mister Reaver told me, bowing deeply once more.

There was something about him that sent a chill down my spine and a flush through my body. I turned to hurry toward the kithen's entrance. I needed to hurry if I hoped to arrive to find my instructor in a good mood. I hadn't intended to be so late. Dancing was my favorite past time outside of my lessons with Walter.

I skidded into the room to see Master Nordstrom tapping his foot impatiently at me. I heaved a breath, and I set my book on the table.

* * *

I skipped supper, not wanting to intrude on my brother's business. I, instead, had decided to ask Walter for an impromptu lesson in melee. After I had worn Walter out, I took back up in the garden, huddled under the nearest lamp, eating an apple and looking over a new book.

"Such a lovely face to keep buried in a book," tutted Mister Reaver as he approached.

I closed my book, and I glanced around, swallowing my bite of apple. He was alone. Perhaps Logan had dismissed him and locked himself in the war room again. He'd been doing that a lot as of late. "There's not much to do around here, sir," I replied, offering a smile.

"A princess surely has many options for activities to keep her busy," He said, his eyes twinkling.

"Life at the castle is not as exciting as one might think, Mister Reaver," I told him.

"Perhaps not, but that doesn't mean you can't make a little fun for yourself."

"Excuse me, sir," I said standing up. "I should be going."

"I hear Sir Walter Beck has been training you in the art of melee combat," Mister Reaver said, one of his eyebrows jumping up.

I paused. "He is."

"And has he taught you how to use one of these?" He asked, opening his coat. He drew a weapon I'd only read about in books. It was a Dragonstomper .48. I gazed down on it, and my mouth fell open in awe.

I shook my head, but then I stopped, nodding instead. "A little. He prefers melee, though."

"I have always preferred a pistol to hitting things with my hands like a savage," he said, his eyes moving slowly over his prized pistol. "Would you like to see how this fires?"

I nodded eagerly, a wide enthusiastic smile coming across my face.

"Throw the apple," He said.

"But it's so dark, will you be able to see it in the air?" I asked.

He laughed, as if it were preposterous to think that he would miss. "Go ahead, Majesty. I will see it." He reholstered his gun, and he pushed his coat open, readying himself for my throw.

I wound up and I threw the apple into the air as hard as I could, and It flew away quickly.

Just as quickly, he had drawn his gun, and fired it, causing the apple to explode in the air.

He looked so serene with the pistol in his hand, still aimed at the air. His eyes turned toward me, and his lips curled upward.

"Would you care for a small lesson, Princess?" He asked.

I glanced around. The guards watched us attentively after the first gunshot. Part of me warned that this was a bad idea, and that I should decline, but the larger part wanted to know how the Dragonstomper felt in my hand. I set my book down on the bench where I had sat, and I returned to Mister Reaver's side.

He placed the Dragonstomper in my hand, and he wrapped my fingers around it delicately. Stepping behind me, he pressed his chest to my back, and he put his hand on my hip to adjust my posture. He ran his fingers down my outstretched arm, moving it into optimal position.

"Now, what are you aiming at, Princess?" he asked in my ear, his breath ghosting across the side of my neck.

I could barely keep the gun steady, my insides trembled from his mere closeness, but I gathered myself quickly. "The knot on that tree," I managed to breathe.

"Good," He said, his hand placing itself on my diaphragm, feeling my breath."Breathe normally, Princess."

I steadied my breathing.

"Exhale."

I obeyed.

"Check your aim."

I focused on the knot on the tree intently.

"Now squeeze the trigger."

I did, and the shot that fired struck my mark very accurately, a feat I had never been able to do from so far away. I lowered the gun, and Mister Reaver took it from me, replacing it in the holster beneath his coat.

I turned to face him, and he was smiling that unreadable smile of his.

"Very nice, Princess. It looks like you are a very apt learner," He said, his voice smooth as cream. "Perhaps I can show you even more, if you will allow." He took one of my hands into his, and he stroked his thumb across my knuckles.

The thought of Elliot crossed my mind, and I hesitated. I knew in my heart now that what I felt for him was love, and I couldn't betray that. I pulled my hand away from the statuesque man before me, and I stood straight. "Thank you very much for the pointers, Mister Reaver, but I'm afraid that I must be going."

"Oh, what a pity, my princess," he said, his lips forming a pout. "But perhaps another day."

"I think I've learned all that I need," I said, stepping back to retrieve my book.

His eyebrows shot up, and he laughed, almost shocked. "I suppose you have." He cleared his throat. "Scurry off, little Princess. I'm sure we will be seeing much more of each other."

I turned, and I walked away, clutching my book to my chest. I chanced a glance back at him, and I saw that he was watching my every move with a deep, steady stare: the way he had looked at the apple in the sky. I gulped, and I turned the corner into the kitchen.


	2. Blue Silk

-Chapter One-

I woke with a start, my heart pounding wildly against my ribcage. The Darkness had crept its way into my dreams once more. It was drawing closer every day, and I could feel the dread building inside of me. It affected Walter stronger than I. He had taken to drinking heavily and avoiding people, even me. I worried about him. I sat up, wiping the sweat from my brow.

Alistair, my hound, slept lazily at the foot of the bed, and I decided not to disturb him. I pushed myself carefully to my feet, and I glanced out the window to see that the sun was rising in the distance, a welcome sight. I went to sit before my vanity, and I surveyed myself in the mirror.

My eyes were puffy with dark circles around them. Sleep had become a commodity since I'd become Queen of Albion. Every moment was filled with anxiety about the coming battle. From Theresa's prediction, I had twenty five days left, but my coffers were still short nearly a million gold to commission the army to its full readiness. I rubbed my temples, unsure of how I could manage to raise that much gold in such a short time. Raising as much as I had already had been quite a feat. All of the money I had earned in my jobs before the revolution, all the rent from houses I had once owned, and the profits from their sale were still not enough to outfit an army that could face The Crawler.

I glanced up at myself in the mirror once more. I was no longer the youthful beauty I had been just under two years ago. I traced my fingers over the thin pink scars that bit into my cheek and jaw. I had gotten them from a balverine in Reaver's mansion. It was only a graze compared to some of the other wounds I'd received that night, but they scarred all the same. Luckily, the balverine curse required a bite.

I fingered the invitation that sat on top of my makeup box. It was made of thick, expensive paper, and the letter was scrawled in golden ink. Reaver had decided to throw a party in celebration of my coronation, nearly a solid year late. I suggested that he declare it an anniversary party, and he just laughed, apparently tickled by my sarcasm. I begrudgingly accepted that I would have to deal with Reaver even after this battle with the darkness was over. The night of the party, I planned on drinking until I didn't have to remember I was there. Though, would that be the responsible thing to do? I heaved a breath.

He had apologized for his attempt to murder me that night in his mansion, but how sincere could an apology be when it came from a mouth that spouted so many lies? He'd even sent me an intricately decorated pistol that packed a surprising punch. It had quickly become my favorite of the ones I owned, even surpassing the pistol my father had left for me in the sanctuary.

Sighing, I pushed away from my vanity to wrap my robe around myself before stepping onto my balcony. The air was cool and crisp with only a hint of the smell from Bowerstone Industrial wafting toward the palace. I stretched softly, and I crossed my arms over my chest. I had to find a way to protect all of this from being snuffed out of existence. Perhaps I could convince Reaver to finally donate to the cause. I was, after all, submitting and attending his silly ball.

There was a knock at the door within, and I stepped back inside. "Come in," I called.

"Good Morning, Madame," Said Jasper, stepping inside. It was a rare occasion that he left the sanctuary to assist me, but today's schedule was full and there was no time for adventuring. He would be needed at the palace, today. His eyes surveyed me, very obviously worried. "You look tired, Your Majesty."

"I'm fine, Jasper," I assured him, offering a smile.

He nodded, though he still looked tentatively at me. "Will you be taking breakfast this morning?"

In the past, I had skipped breakfast in favor of work, but I felt I owed it to myself to have a decent meal after such a night of unrest. "Yes, Jasper, I think I will."

He smiled, seeming to be comforted by it. "Very well, will you take it here in your room or down in the dining room?"

"Here, please," I requested. "And coffee. A lot of coffee."

He bowed, and he pulled a letter from his breast pocket. "A letter from Logan, Your Majesty."

I took the folded piece of parchment, and Jasper left me in peace to read it. Sliding my finger under the red wax seal, I opened it up quickly. Since pardoning him of all crimes, Logan had taken to living in a secluded hunting lodge in the Silverpine forest. He said he needed time to recover from his reign. I now understood his choice.

_'My dear sister,_

_I received an invitation from Reaver to attend a ball in your honor, but I cannot attend for reasons obvious to everyone. I wish I could be with you through these taxing occasions, but we both know it is best for me to stay where I am. Never hesitate to write me with your troubles, for they once were mine. I miss you, Lilyana, and I hope that one day the black stain of my actions will lighten, and I can once again be a good brother to you. I very much enjoyed your visit last week, and I hope I can see you again soon._

_-Logan'_

I stroked the sloppy script of my brother's hand, and I sighed. I missed Logan terribly—more than I had anticipated. Some people were appalled when I had pardoned him, but executing my brother was the one thing I would not do for Albion. As much as I hated him for things he had done in the past, I still loved him and needed him. I would have to remember to write back, perhaps after the ball. Today would be too busy.

At court today, I would try to convince wealthy nobles to part with money to go towards the war effort. Then, after that, I had to make an appearance in the market district for a ribbon cutting. I believed it was a new alchemist's shop opening up, but I couldn't remember. Then after that, hours of primping and preparing for Reaver's ball. I had no idea what I would wear, but I would probably end up wearing simply the uniform I wore to court.

Jasper reentered the room with a tray full of delicious breakfast foods. He set it down at my small table in the far corner of my room, and I moved to sit down. I didn't know where to start, but my gnawing gut suggested that I start soon. I tucked in, and I forgot about the worries I had, at least momentarily.

* * *

My dressers left me in my room, fully dressed for court in my ceremonial uniform. I sighed. I had been wearing this more often than not, lately, and frankly, I tired of it. I missed wearing trousers and a blouse while adventuring. Now every morning, I was squeezed into a corset and draped in pounds of fabric and armor. I sat down stiffly in the corner, picking up the book I had been reading. It was a romance, and I sighed wistfully, noting that I had no time for real romance. Not that anyone, save for maybe Reaver, had alluded to any sort of interest in me romantically, but Reaver definitely did not count, as handsome as he may be.

My thoughts drifted to Reaver and his handsome face, but I attributed that to lack of sleep, and I hurriedly cleared my thoughts.

"He is a bad, bad man, no matter how long it's been since..." I trailed off, seeing that Alistair was staring up to me, wide-eyed and tongue lolling, trying very hard to understand what I was talking about. I scratched him behind his ear for his efforts, he licked my glove appreciatively.

"Ma'am," said one of my newest maids, I thought her name was Bella, as she entered the room. "A package arrived for you from the tailor."

My eyebrows shot up. This was a surprise.

"I didn't expect anything from them," I said, standing from my seat and putting my book down. I moved across the room to take the box from her. It was a large box, larger than most boxes that I'd received from the tailor in the past.

"I wonder who sent it, then," Bella remarked, coming over in case I needed assistance.

I set it down on my desk, and I untied the large white bow wrapped around it. I pulled the lid of the box off, and I saw that it was a dress in a beautiful powder blue silk. I pulled it from the box to observe the whole thing. There were beautiful gathered scallops of fabric around the skirt, laced with light blue and white beads. The neckline was drastically lower than one I would have chosen for myself, due to more balverine scars across my collarbone, but the gown was still breathtaking.

Bella came to take the dress from me, so that I could step around it and look at the whole thing. I had owned some beautiful dresses in my youth, but this one was unlike anything I'd ever worn. It was adult and sophisticated and lovely. I'd mostly been wearing this uniform to most of the big events because I hadn't had the time nor did I want to spend the money to buy anything grander.

"Oh my goodness," Bella said, her eyes wide as saucers.

I peered into the box to see a folded piece of parchment. I retrieved it, and I opened it. There was a small heart drawn in the center of the sheet. I furrowed my brow, very confused now. This gown was obviously a gift, but the person who had sent it was a mystery. "Ah...put it away for tonight, Bella. Whoever sent this obviously intended for me to wear it."

She nodded, and she scurried away to get it ready for the evening.

There was a knock at the door, and in stepped Walter, a forced smile on his face. "There you are. Court is starting very soon, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Walter," I replied, smiling back softly.

* * *

My eyes drifted across the throne room, and I sighed gently. I now understood why Father had said that being King was the least exciting thing he'd ever done in his life. I nodded in greeting to the bowing merchants and craftsmen that were here in honor of me on this day. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty that I was paying so little attention. Funds were low, and even my contributions of my entire savings wasn't enough to put a dent in the hefty fee for safety. I needed more soldiers, more protection for my people. I saw that the crowd in the room was dwindling, and I could very soon be done with all this grand parading and kowtowing. I straightened on my throne, and I pushed a few stray hairs away from my face.

"Your majesty, I wanted to offer my financial support in this time of need," said the round merchant standing before me. "It is but a humble offering, but I can donate as much gold as I can spare."

"You have my gratitude, sir," I said with as much warmth as I could muster.

The man gave a final bow before turning to exit the throne room.

I, once again, glanced around the room and spotted Reaver, speaking to a rather intimidated, yet flustered looking craftswoman. He was most likely trying to swindle her out of business, and the look on her face suggested that he was very good at what he did. The man was despicable in every sense of the word, but he had the gold in his purse to fund a war, perhaps two. His flamboyance covered something dark in him—something I'd only gotten a glimpse of the night of his party. Watching people fight for their lives against foes of all sorts was his idea of a good time, yet I sensed his distortion went much further than that.

He rested heavily on the laurels of his good looks, and they were indeed very fine. I caught myself staring at him more than was appropriate. It had been a long time since I had been with a man. I felt like eons had passed since Elliot had given his life for those protesters, and I hadn't been able to fully give myself to another man since.

Though I doubted much harm could come from simply looking at Reaver, even if the pretty package contained something very ugly. I chewed on my bottom lip, wishing that I had someone less inwardly grotesque to turn my attention toward, but Reaver was the best looking man in court, possibly the best looking man in Bowerstone.

His eyes flicked over to me, and his trademark smirk crept across his lips, as if he could read my thoughts. He bade the blushing woman goodbye, and he tossed his walking stick gently off of the ground, catching it suavely as he made his way towards the throne.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing graciously, though his eyes never left mine. "You know, I've never had the time to commend you for deciding not to pour gold into the ruins of the war in The Old Quarter. It would be quite a lost cause, and now it may serve as a reminder of the devastation of rebellion." My body betrayed me as he took my idle hand and placed a kiss across my knuckles, his lips lingering a little longer than standard protocol deemed appropriate.

I pressed my lips tightly together. "The damage will be repaired after Albion's safety is assured."

"Yes, yes, Your Majesty," He said obligingly, his voice so velvety and rich. "Of course it will." His eyes scanned my body boldly. He knew that I watched from the way his eyes flickered up to mine every so often, but he persisted, looking as if he were trying to imagine what I looked like beneath all my clothes.

"Was there any other business, Mister Reaver, or were you just coming to express thanks?" I asked, raising my brows, and straightening my back. I was growing more and more flustered with every moment of his undivided attention. The way his eyes roamed my body was absolutely brazen. Heat rose in the pit of my stomach, but I gathered my composure quickly.

"There's plenty of business that I would love to discuss with you, my dear, but I daresay none of it is appropriate for such surroundings," He quipped with a grin, his thumb tracing circles over the top of my hand.

I realized that I had never taken my hand from his, and I pulled it gently from his grip. I couldn't think of anything to say to him after such a remark. I simply shook my head, giving him a disapproving look.

"If the royal duties ever become too taxing, Your Majesty, I offer myself for any needs you may have." His deep chocolate eyes twinkled with just a hint of naughty humor.

"Feel free to fill the royal coffers," I mused. "You certainly have the money to spare."

"Ah, but that's where I must draw the line, my dear. I'm sorry." His playfulness had receded only slightly. "Now, if there were a reason for me to invest my hard-earned gold, I might be tempted."

"You earned that gold with the blood and sweat of your underpaid, mistreated factory workers," I came back, my blush could now be mistaken for anger. I was working on passing a law to battle such treatment of workers.

"Yes, that very well may be, but I earned it all the same, my sweet," He grinned, leaning on his walking stick. "Are you looking forward to the little _soiree_ that I'm conducting in your honor? I realize that I'm a little late, but I dare to hope that you will enjoy yourself thoroughly."

That wasn't what I would call it. I would rather wear a gown made of raw meat in Silverpine than spend time at Reaver's mansion. Then again, the last time I was there, there had been balverines, so perhaps there would a good chance that I would be put out of my misery before having to spend the whole night at this party.

I sighed, "I appreciate the thought, Mister Reaver-"

"Call me Reaver, Majesty, we're friends now," His eyes filled with mirth.

I licked my lips quickly before saying, "I appreciate the thought, _Reaver_, but I must say that I tire of parties and celebration when there are people's lives at stake in the coming days."

"Ah yes, _that_," he said, his eyes rolling softly. He let out a small breath, looking as defeated as he could. "Well, perhaps if you come to my party in good spirits, I _might_ be able to arrange some sort of donation toward your efforts. That is, if you're willing to talk business." He smiled deviously.

I wasn't quite sure what he meant by business, but I nodded, "Yes, Reaver, I suppose I could do that." I was sure that he had something in his mind other than letting me use his gold to pay my military, though there was not much I could do except accept his money with a friendly smiling face and, hopefully, my dignity intact.

"Oh, I am so thrilled to have the opportunity to pick our monarch's mind," He basically gushed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've arrangements to oversee. Ta!" He turned, throwing a hand in the air in a wave. He glanced back toward me, giving me a small wink as he exited the throne room.

I rubbed my temples. What was I getting myself into?


	3. Queen Stick-In-The-Mud

-Chapter Two-

I sighed. Tonight was going to either be very good, or very bad. Perhaps Walter would assist me in sneaking out early, though I doubted Reaver would be very pleased. Then again, what did I care what pleased Reaver?

I surveyed myself in the mirror once more. I was shocked how well the dress fit. Whoever had sent it had known my size. Perhaps the tailor simply wanted me to wear one of his creations to this event. Reaver's parties were popular among the young and fashionable and if The Queen wore a dress of his making, it would surely increase his business. I tried to pull the dress up in front to cover myself a little more, but the dress was not cut for modesty.

I had chosen to wear a tiara crafted with pearls and a pale-almost-silver gold in lieu of the large, bulky crown I wore to court. This tiara had been my mother's after she married Father. It was one of her most treasured possessions, I'd been told.

"You look lovely, Your Majesty," Jasper said, helping me by draping a string of pearls around my neck. "As always."

I traced the scars running from the left side of my collar bone to the top of my right breast with my gloved hand. I had applied as much makeup as I possibly could, but they were still visible, but not as noticeable. The scars on my face were not as difficult to cover. Their pink appearance had been converted to a more fleshy color. I was rather pleased with the result.

"Your scars are nothing to be ashamed of," Jasper assured me, surely noticing my inspection of them. "The people that can look past them are the ones truly worthy of your time and attention."

I offered him a smile as I nodded. "I know, Jasper. Thank you."

"Now, I fear I must take my leave," He said. "The Sanctuary requires a good deal of cleaning and dusting to keep it in order for you."

I nodded, and as he exited the room, Walter entered.

"The guards are just about ready, Your Majesty," He said, crossing the room toward me, looking me up and down. He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, closing his eyes, surely frustrated. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

"Neither do I," I agreed. "But Reaver has deep pockets, and we need the gold."

"Yes," He said, grimly. "I know, but everyone knows how Reaver can be." He added, grumbling, "With you looking like that...well you might as well paint a bullseye on your bum."

I glared at him a little. "You don't need to worry about me, Walter. I can take care of myself."

He nodded in defeat. "I know that, Your Majesty, but you don't see how that man looks at you."

"I'm sure he prefers his women a little more...unblemished," I chuckled, smiling over to Walter. "When Reaver looks at me he only sees my title."

"That is still dangerous," Walter came back. "I don't trust him."

Nodding, I turned to him. "Are you ready to escort me into the dragon's den, Walter?"

Humor drifted across his face, and he held out his arm. "I can't say I'll be much company at the party, but I'll keep an eye on you...and him."

* * *

The carriage ride to Reaver's was very uneventful and, frankly, rather boring. Walter had gone ahead with the bulk of my guard to make sure that the route was clear of bandits and mercenaries, and no one else from the castle had been invited. Ben Finn and Page were rumored to have been invited, but I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to them since before the gala had been announced.

I stared out over Bower Lake, and I watched the stars twinkle down into the water. I envied Reaver for the view. When the carriage came to a halt, I glanced up to Reaver's estate. All lit up for a non-secret party, it was really quite beautiful.

A footman opened the carriage door, while another extended a hand to help me down. I glanced around to see that the outside was clear of anyone but my guard, a few of Reaver's attendants, and myself. I was escorted to the door by a flat-nosed guard of mine. He'd always been very nice.

I tired of being followed by guards and treated as if I were made of glass, but I realized that there were many good reasons. Until I produced an heir and they came of age, I was the only person in Albion to sit on the throne. People clamored for me to choose a husband, but with The Darkness coming and the anxiety that accompanied it, I could barely choose what to wear each day.

When my escort and I entered Reaver's mansion, a young towheaded butler rushed to proclaim my arrival to the rest of the party.

"Presenting Her Majesty Lilyana, Queen of Albion and defender of all Her people," The butler announced as I crossed the threshold, and I watched the people all stoop down into bows and curtsies. When they rose, I was ushered to a seat at the a table set up for me and obviously Reaver, who stood by his chair. He wore a dark sapphire-colored suit trimmed with black, but he wore no hat and carried no walking stick. His hands were gloved, and his boots were polished to a near-reflective shine.

"Your Majesty, you are an absolute vision," he said, taking my hand and giving it a small kiss.

"Thank you, Reaver," I said, my throat tightening.

He assisted me into my chair, and he sat beside me. He immediately signaled for one of the servants to bring me a drink, and soon enough, a glass of wine sat in front of me.

I was thankful, and I took a generous sip.

"About this business, Reaver..." I started.

He quickly interrupted me, "Oh, My Queen, there's no need to speak of such things right now. Perhaps later." His hand patted, then stroked my knee beneath the table.

I sent him a burning look, and he removed his hand, a sly grin set on his face.

"When?" I asked grimly.

"Maybe when I've had more to drink," He said. "Business runs smoother with a little...shall we say, lubrication?"

I took another sip of my wine. "We _will_ speak about your offer, Reaver."

"Do not worry, my most beautiful Monarch. I will not leave you without satisfaction."

His words held two meanings, I was sure. I folded my hands in my lap, turning my face away from his, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me blush yet again.

He leaned close, "The night is still young. We'll have time for everything, sweet darling." His breath caressed my neck, and his hand one again found itself on my leg.

I squeezed my hands together, my face very hot and surely just as red. Crossing my ankles, I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to recite my favorite epic poem about The Hero of Oakvale in my mind, anything to distract me from what was happening in my body.

"Now, if you had something else in mind, as your deep flush suggests, I think we can find time for that, too," He said.

I grabbed his hand and forcefully pushed it away from me. "Reaver, you will stop this."

Reaver chuckled, "If it pleases you, My Queen. My aim is always to give you pleasure in whatever you wish."

I glanced back at him. His face suggested a joke, but his eyes were very serious. I needed more wine soon if I was going to have to put up with his relentless flirting and innuendos.

"Excuse me, My liege, I must go and greet my guests. You are welcome to accompany me," he said, standing up and holding his arm out to me.

I sighed, knowing that I needed to make my rounds. I stood by myself, declining his arm, and I followed him across the room, preparing myself for a slew of nobles whose names I couldn't quite remember. Thankfully Reaver always led on each conversation, being sure to drop the names as we went along.

He guided me around the crowd, his hand at the small of my back, sometimes drifting lower, always by accident, of course. I grew more frustrated with every passing moment, but I endured. I had to keep reminding myself that my father surely had put up with characters just as agitating, if not more. Logan had dealt with Reaver for years, yet I doubted Reaver lathered as much attention on my brother. Then again...

"Your Majesty, it is an honor to be here in your company," said Lady Raynesworth, her deep hazel eyes twinkling. "My son is around your age. Perhaps you have met him? William Raynesworth."

"No, madam," I replied. "I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him."

"Well, I shall send him off to court as soon as I possibly can," She said, her eyebrows raising "Surely he would do well from your example of humility and virtue, and perhaps you may find a good friend in him."

"Perhaps," I replied, smiling.

"My lady," Reaver interjected. "It was a great pleasure speaking with you, and I hope to do so again, very soon." He laid the charm down thickly. He kissed the top of her hand briefly.

Lady Raynesworth opened her fan and quickly cooled her face. "The pleasure is all mine, Mister Reaver."

As we walked away, Reaver muttered, "Unfortunately, not all of my guests can be as quick witted as the others. Her son is just as unintelligent." His hand once again settled on my lower back, and he pushed me along to the next cluster of people. "Do not fret, my lovely Queen, the dancing shall start soon, and then we can forget all about the genial frivolousness and have some true fun."

I hadn't intended on dancing at all. I hadn't even danced at my own coronation. I had opted out of a large-scale ball, and instead settled on a cocktail hour following a large dinner. It was less stressful than wading the waters of society while I was still so green. I felt relief, seeing that we had just about spoken to everyone, and we would soon be done.

Reaver's hand drifted down once more, giving a light squeeze and moving back upward before I could protest. I sighed, but I reminded myself that there was a greater purpose to enduring his pinches, prods and caresses. I needed his donation badly.

* * *

I found myself sitting back at the table, drinking yet another glass of wine. Luckily with my Hero's constitution, it took a lot of alcohol to get me properly drunk. I couldn't enjoy this party, not with so much else on my mind. I stood to greet people as they came to speak to me, and I watched the dancing, but I had no partner to take part. My friends Ben and Page were present. Ben had come by to say hello, but Page was still too angry about some of the decisions I'd made since taking the throne. Perhaps she wasn't as true of a friend as I'd thought.

"Why, it's a ball in your honor," Reaver said, approaching and extending a hand to me. He looked up at me from his bow. His face was genial and polite, but his eyes were filled with heat. "A turn around the dance floor will surely take the sour look off of that lovely face of yours."

I knew that he was simply trying to flatter me, and honestly, it didn't work. I realized that I was no longer attractive to most men, but then again, I hadn't been looked at with eyes like his in a long time. Once I'd received these scars and become Queen, no other man had dared to look at me with such brazen desire. I glanced around, noticing that the majority of the guests noticed the exchange. I spotted, Page, who glanced away deliberately. It was likely Reaver had only invited her to rub his wealth in her face, and it was likely she accepted to keep an eye on me.

I took his hand, accepting his invitation to the dance floor. He was right, I needed to at least pretend to enjoy myself no matter how silly or trivial. I didn't want to be known as "Queen Stick-In-The-Mud", defeater of fun, and sovereign of sullen.

He spun me skillfully onto the floor, a victorious smile spread across his lips. Our feet moved perfectly in sync, our grace seeming equally matched. We glided grandly across the dance floor, carving a path through the thick crowd.

"Reaver, this is quite extravagant," I noted, moving his drifting hand up toward my lower back once more. My eyes met his. They were playful with a hint of a roguish glint. Our bodies pressed much closer than Master Nordstrom had shown me for such a waltz, but I let him have his way. His gold could put swords in my army's hands and helmets on their heads. I regained my composure, trying to ignore the spicy tang of his cologne, and how my body had ached to be held by a man again. "How do you afford things like this on a moment's notice?"

"I'm quite wealthy, as you may or may not have noticed," He said, his hand once more drifting further south than appropriate. "Maybe later we can discuss business in a more appropriate setting. We can take brandy in my study, perhaps."

"Whatever you want to say, you can say right now, Reaver," I told him, lifting my chin to glance at him. I felt less self-conscious about my height in his arms. I usually towered over my friends and subjects, but Reaver was taller than I was, even without his favorite hat. His hair was pushed back out of his face, tousled ever-so-deliberately.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a deviant grin. "I want to bend you across that throne of yours and bury my face in your..." His voice was low and almost knocked the wind from my lungs.

"Sir, you are too forward," I interrupted him, my voice shaky and my cheeks burning. I had been so close to punching him in that smirking mouth of his, but I was in his home, surrounded by his guards and people. I couldn't start a fight with a man that might contribute greatly to the royal coffers.

"Ah, my croquette, you are not forward enough," He purred into my ear. "Why should one deny themselves the simple pleasures of life simply because of one's station?"

Or one's morals. I closed my eyes briefly.

"Though, Your Majesty, the pleasures I inflict can barely be called simple." He released me to spin me grandly, the full skirt of my dress splaying like a flower in bloom. He spun me back in, but I was faced away from him, my back pressed against his chest. His hand spread out greedily across my rib cage, almost possessively. "The gown I sent you does look quite lovely, I must say. Though, I bet you'd be just as lovely, if not more so without it."

Of course he had sent the gown. The heart on the card matched his beauty mark. I should have realized it sooner. I gulped down the anxious lump in my throat. I felt like prey in the claws of its hunter.

People in the crowd were watching in awe of our intricate dancing. He moved his hands to lift me in the air, spinning and putting me down gently, still faced away from him. I could only think what people assumed, the way held me, but my body approved even if my mind knew better.

"They make it look so effortless," said a woman rather loudly. The people around her agreed enthusiastically, commenting on my dress, and Reaver's skilled feet.

It _was _effortless. Dancing was the only activity typical of a princess that I truly enjoyed, and I had become quite good at it. Though it had been so long since I'd had occasion to dance, my feet did not go without practice. Each step in each fight was deliberate and skilled, perfectly choreographed in my mind for precision and deftness.

As the song came to an end, he spun me out one final time and I moved to face him, our bodies now parted as he bowed deeply to me. I lowered myself into the appropriate curtsy, and a few people applauded our dance.

"May I cut in?" asked Ben's voice from behind me.

The humor in Reaver's face melted away, and his lips pursed. He nodded shortly, relinquishing my hand to place it in Ben's. "I do hope your toes are in for a good stomping, my Queen. I watched his dancing earlier." He turned to walk away, looking much like a little boy forced to share his favorite toy.

I turned to dance with Ben as the music once again started up. I kept my dancing simple, because I was sure that Ben hadn't been properly taught how to dance. I was correct.

He awkwardly maneuvered his feet around mine, trying his best not to accidentally tread on the new delicate shoes that had come with the dress. "Page is not a very merry little rebel, Your Majesty."

"I know...she has been giving me looks that would melt steel."

"Maybe that has a little to do with how sore her toes probably are," He chuckled, his foot coming very close to stomping on mine. I moved backward just in time. "Though, I suppose the majority of it is about The Old Quarter...still."

"Ben, Albion can't afford to rebuild right now...not when there is so much chance for it to be destroyed once more," I sighed.

"I understand," He said, heaving a sigh. "I'm the one having to figure out what to do with the soldiers, remember?"

"Yes, Ben, I'm sorry. Things are...more difficult than I imagined." I closed my eyes. "Logan's cruelty was his attempt at securing Albion's safety, and I fear I cannot take the kingdom down a different path until after we have defeated The Crawler."

He nodded, but his face suddenly changed. "What _was _all that just then? With Reaver?"

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, raising my brows.

"He was clutching you like you were filled with gold," He laughed, his eyes twinkling. "And your face looked something like it would if you had a gun in your back." His eyebrows furrowed suddenly. "Wait..did you...have a gun in your back?"

"We were only dancing," I lied. It was more than that and I knew it. Reaver was always playing a game, and the odds seemed to always slant in his favor. "Why? Are you jealous?" Maybe if I caught him off guard, he would drop it. I grinned, and I gave him my my most smoldering look. A year ago, Ben and I flirted shamelessly, but nothing ever came from it. When Page entered the picture, he only had eyes for her, but she never seemed to reciprocate such feelings. It was a shame. Ben was a good man that deserved a good woman.

Ben's face reddened, and he coughed. "No, Lilyana. I just...It's just that..." He trailed off, his eyes darting around the room, possibly looking for an escape route. I couldn't move my foot fast enough to avoid the wrath of his boot.

I winced, and he released me at once.

"I'm sorry!" He apologized profusely. "Maybe...I should just take you back to your table."

I nodded, and he assisted me as I limped back to my seat at the table, my foot throbbing. As I sat down, another glass of wine had been set down for me. I took it in hand as I glanced around the room, finding Page speaking vehemently to Ben, who just rubbed his neck and looked awkward. Maybe she was pressing him for information about what we'd talked about. I found Walter in the corner, drinking from his flask, looking utterly out of place. His face looked forlorn, and I was about to rise to speak to him, when my host approached rapidly.

"Perhaps now would be good time to speak privately...about business, of course," Reaver said. "I will slip out of the ballroom, and I will show you to my study." He tilted his head in goodbye, and he walked toward the doorway.

I finished my glass of wine, and when I stood, I realized how affected I was by the drink. I exhaled softly, and I walked walked gracefully toward the door, trying every moment to look regal and not drunk. It was far more difficult than I had intended.


	4. All I Require

**A/N: I am SO SORRY I left this one out. It's actually one of my favorites. ^_^ I"ll find a way to make it up to you guys somehow!**

-Chapter Three-

I spotted Reaver toward the foot of the staircase. He held his hand out to me, and I took it, not trusting myself up so many stairs in this state. I lifted the front of my skirt with my free hand, and I followed him up the stairs in silence. His perfect backside peeked through the tails of his coat. I couldn't help but imagine what it felt like. Soon enough, my mind was drifting to other parts of his anatomy. I felt his hand squeeze mine gently, and I saw that he had caught me observing his glorious gluteus. I pretended that I was lost in thought, and not staring intently at the flexing of his muscles as we ascended the stairs.

When he opened the door to his office, I saw something that made my heart stop. It was one of those metal creatures from the cave in Aurora. I reached for the small dagger I'd hidden between my breasts, and threw it deftly through the air, striking it, but it didn't move. My weapon stuck from the thing's forehead, and I realized that the influence of The Crawler was needed to animate it. I sighed as I lowered my hand.

"What is that thing doing here?" I asked him breathlessly.

"Oh, dear," He sighed. "I didn't mean for it to startle you, but your brother brought the thing back from Aurora in his journeys. I purchased it. It's completely harmless, or so I've been led to believe...and now it has a dagger in its head." His eyes glinted a little with amusement. "I didn't realize that you kept a weapon between those delectable bosoms of yours."

"I couldn't very well put a gun holster on this gown, now could I?" I questioned, exasperated.

"Indeed. Now, about business," He said, stepping closer, his long fingers circling the wrist of my free hand. He had me completely in his grip now.

I retreated, ending up against a wall. "Reaver, I thought we had-"

"Shh...my dear, there's no need to fret," He cajoled, stroking my face.

I broke one hand away and reached into his holster as quickly I could, and I held the barrel of his Dragonstomper under his chin. My heart pounded, and my head spun. As much as I craved this, I couldn't let it actually happen.

He chuckled, his body drawing even closer. "Pull the trigger, Your Majesty, if you can."

"You are a despicable man, Reaver," I said, through gritted teeth.

"Despicable, and handsome," He corrected me. "I see the way you look at me from your throne. The blush that spreads across your breast, and face, the way you take your lip between your teeth and bite or sometimes lick." His breath caressed the side of my face. "It makes me want to see what's so delicious about your lip that you just need it in your mouth." His voice was less formal than he spoke in public when he felt the need to put on airs. "Just a taste of you is all I require." His mouth touched to mine, and I drew the hammer back on the pistol.

He retreated, a smile curving his mouth as his thumb stroked the inside of my wrist. "I can feel your blood throbbing in your veins. You want this, pet." His mouth touched mine again, but this time I released the hammer, and he took the gun from me with his free hand, holstering it once more. His tongue slid into my mouth, devouring and exploring, hot with need.

I drew away, turning my head, but he put his face against my neck. His tongue flicked skillfully up the length of my jumping pulse.

"We shouldn't," I whispered huskily. My head was spinning. I pushed weakly at him, my eyes tearing away towards the door. It was closed, but at any moment, someone could come in and find The Queen in a most compromising situation with one of the most heavily disliked men in all of Albion. Any one of my companions would surely judge me harshly for consorting with the likes of Reaver. My knees trembled gently, my body betraying my will.

"Oh, but we should," He retorted, his mouth once again finding my neck. He pressed me back into the wall. "An alliance between us could only prove prosperous for both. We could be business partners." His hand moved up the rigid boning that ran up my torso, and he released my wrist to pull my hips toward him, the generous fabric of my skirts hindering any sort of contact

"In my experience, business partners don't usually do this sort of thing, Reaver," I breathed as his hot breath caressed the sensitized skin of my neck.

"In my experience business dealings tend to get _very_ personal," His voice was little more than a whisper as one gloved hand encircled gently around my neck, his thumb stroking my flesh. His mouth took mine, hungrily.

The heat in the pit of my stomach spread further south, and my hand tightened into a fist at my side. I knew that I shouldn't give in. I knew that he was only after the conquest of bedding The Queen of Albion, but my body ached with need. I slipped my arms around him, and he pulled back, using his white, perfect teeth to pull a glove off of his dominant hand. He turned my body so that I faced the wall. His mouth traced a path down the back of my neck and as far down as my dress would allow, and he plunged his ungloved hand down the front of my corset, finding the sheath to my dagger and bubbling lightly with laughter. He tossed it away, then moved to cup a handful of the breast over my heart. Skilled fingers teased and pinched my nipple into a tight peak. I moaned softly, my head lolling forward.

"My, my," He whispered, his breath ghosting across my skin. "You are responsive, aren't you? Has it been a long time since you've been touched like this?" His teeth nipped gently at my skin and his mouth drew on my flesh. I melted against him, tilting my head to give him more room to explore the scoop of my neck.  
There was a swift knock at the door. A screened peephole on the door opened, so that the intruder could hear, but not see. "Master Reaver?" A young man's voice came through the hole. "Your guests are beginning to wonder where you've been." This man obviously knew better than to barge into a room with Reaver. One could never know what he was doing and with whom.

I straightened, but Reaver didn't move. His mouth found my ear, and he took the lobe in between his teeth. "They can wait," he assured me quietly.

"Er...they also wonder where The Queen has gone. Perhaps you can...er...help locate her." The servant added hesitantly. It was obvious that the man knew precisely where I was but was too afraid to suggest anything.

Reaver heaved a sigh, and he removed his hand from my corset. "I will only be another moment, Arthur." He turned me around to face him, and he ran his fingers across my chin, wiping at what was most definitely my smudged makeup. "Until next time, my dear."

My body craved to touch his again, but I backed away. "There won't be a next time, Reaver. It was a moment of weakness."

"Lust is not a weakness," he noted, leaning to retrieve my sheath, and his glove.

"It won't happen again," I said, taking the sheath to my dagger back.

"Think of all the other lovely things I can do to make you feel as you just did," He said, arm circling around my waist. Our bodies pressed against each other once again. "If you enjoyed my tongue in your mouth, there are a number of other places where it might please you even _more_." He pressed his mouth against my collarbone, his tongue tracing a scar.

My desire twisted in my gut, but I stood straight and stepped out of his arms reach.

He sighed, throwing up his hands dramatically in defeat. "You win this one, Your Majesty, but you cannot win them all." He strode across the room toward the door. "Some time, soon I'd wager, your 'no' will transform into a 'yes'." He exited the room.

Finding a mirror in Reaver's study was easier than finding a hobbe in a smelly cave. I surveyed the damage to my makeup. It wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, but my cheeks were rosy with heat. I checked my hair, and moved the mass of curls to cover a bruising love bite on the curve of my neck, cursing softly. He most likely left it there just to tease me.

I glanced around the room. There were many pictures, but they all had one thing in common. Reaver's face appeared in each painting. Each one was by a different artist, but his face was a constant in the work. Only one or two abstract visions of him hung. The others captured his features perfectly. His squared jaw, his dark tempting eyes, and that snarky grin even made an appearance in some of them. I was reminded of a story my father had told me about a man so egotistical that he would kill artists that did not capture his image perfectly. I snorted with laughter. It sounded a lot like Reaver.

I moved toward the metal creature's husk and I reached up to pull my dagger from its head. Sheathing my blade, I placed it back between my bosom, and I put my hands on my hips. Undoubtedly, what had happened would give Reaver the idea that more would happen, and as much as I hated to admit it, I wanted it to. After an appropriate gap of time passed, I exited the study, finding my way easily back to the party.

* * *

As I reentered the party, I saw that Walter was making his way toward me. His face was muddled with relief and a trace of worry. As he approached, he pocketed his flask.

"Is everything alright, Your Majesty?" he questioned, looking me over. "I looked away for one moment, and you were gone."

"I had some business to discuss with Reaver," I told him. I decided it would be better not to tell him that we had never actually spoken of business or actually even spoken much.

"Did he say if he would donate?" Walter asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He said he would need more time to think about it," I said, offering a slight shrug before making sure my hair was still covering my neck. "Perhaps I'll have an answer from him by the end of the party."

"Did he give any hints toward what he wants to give?" Walter questioned.

I paused for a moment, not giving the answer that immediately came to mind. I, instead, shook my head. "No. He's been tiptoeing around it."

"Balls," Walter groaned. "I thought maybe if you went along with this whole party thing, he'd skip all of the skulduggery."

"Did you really expect Reaver to give in without some sort of twist?" I questioned, glancing over Walter's shoulder to see Reaver standing with a set of nobles on the other side of the dance floor, listening to one of them talk at length. His eyes moved to meet mine, and his lips turned upward subtly.

Walter rubbed his bearded chin, and he reached for his flask once more. "No. I really didn't, but it would have nice for a bloody change." He drained his drink, and he sighed, sticking it back into his pocket. "You didn't happen to bring a spare, did you?"

"I wish I'd thought of it," I laughed, grinning.

"Well that doesn't do us any good does it?" He smiled, putting his arm around me. "I'll bring back-ups next time you're forced into one of these parties."

I certainly needed another drink. "Come, Walter. Let's drink all of the expensive wine that Reaver bought for this party."

His laughter was rare lately, so to hear him laugh deep from his belly only brought a smile to my face. I waved to a server, she came toward me, bowing deeply.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" she asked.

"Two glasses of the finest wine, please." I asked, straightening and sounding especially regal.

"Yes, of course," She said, scurrying off for the drinks.

"You know," Walter said. "Maybe this party isn't so bad, after all."

I motioned for Walter to come sit in my seat at the table, while I sat where Reaver had been seated. He was too busy to need to sit down.

I saw that Reaver's new butler was standing on his toes to whisper something in his master's ear. Reaver's eyes brightened with something unknown to me, and he straightened his tie before pasting on a look of worry. He nodded to his butler, shooing him from the room. He strode toward me, lacing his fingers together.

"Your Majesty, Arthur just informed me that there has been a report of a group of bandits terrorizing travelers just across Bower Lake. I'm afraid I must cut this little party short." He tilted his head to the side, his chestnut hair falling slightly in his eyes. "I daresay my guests will be endangering themselves by leaving my home, but there is not room enough in my estate to house all of these people." He motioned dramatically about the room.

I glanced down to my hands as I wrung them together. "I have an excess of guards, Reaver. I can send most of them with the guests to get them safely to Bowerstone. From there, I suppose they can find their own ways home."

"Most wise, Your Majesty, but that leaves you rather...vulnerable, does it not?" He asked, leaning in close. "I wouldn't dream of letting any harm come to you on this night. Though..." He glanced off to the left. "I do have a _few_ spare rooms to house you and one or two of your guards through the night. Surely you will be safe here."

I gulped, and I nodded hastily. "I suppose you're right." I was going to regret this decision, but I couldn't let any harm come to these people. Perhaps in this type of situation, Reaver would realize that sex should be the last thing on his mind. Then again, I knew Reaver.


	5. Blue Skies Green Grass

**A/N: Okay...so this one is FULL of lemons. Just a warning. I'm happy to see the reviews I'm getting, and don't worry, I've got a lot more lined up for Reaver and Lilyana. Muahahahaha. Enjoy!**

-Chapter Four-

Arthur showed me toward a room on the top level, next to Reaver's study. He opened the door for me, and I saw that the room was rather large and decorated heavily with more paintings of Reaver. I wondered if all the rooms in the manor had them pasted everywhere. Undoubtedly.

"Your Majesty," Arthur said. "I shall return with the proper amenities."

I nodded, thanking him softy as he left the room.

I paced the length of the room. There were a lot of bookshelves, and they were stocked with books. I spotted some of my favorites at first glance, and I smiled. I grabbed the copy of The Hero Of The Spire, and I moved to open it, but Arthur interrupted me, and I slid it back onto the shelf.

He had a basin of steaming water, and a small, round woman followed him into the room, holding a stack of towels and a scarlet robe draped over her shoulder. As Arthur set the basin down, he bowed and left the room.

"Your Majesty," The woman greeted me with a curtsy as she laid the towels down. She had a soft, kind face full of freckles and edged with fine lines of age. "It is such a pleasure to have you here. Master Reaver expresses his hope that you will be comfortable."

"Yes, thank you," I replied. "I'm sure I will be."

"Let me help you out of that gown," She said. "As beautiful as it is, it can't be very comfortable." She bent to take the shoes from my feet, and she stowed them carefully at the foot of the bed.

I nodded, and she stepped behind me, starting to unbutton the dress.

"If I might say so, My Queen, you danced beautifully with Master Reaver tonight," She said, a smile in her voice. "It's so rare to see him in such a good humor."

"Thank you," I said. I hadn't ever seen Reaver when he was in a foul mood. He had been quite jolly, though a little sadistic, when Page and I had come to rescue her friends. I could imagine shots fired and servants berated, perhaps beheaded, when he lost his temper.

She had made quick work of the gown's buttons, and she was pulling it down off of my shoulders. I stepped out of the dress, and she laid it across the bed. She worked at helping me remove the many petticoats I was wearing. I was eager to be out of all of the layers of fabric. When she started to unlace my corset, my breathing slowed. It was such a relief to be free. I breathed deeply as she pulled the restrictive garment off of my body.

She gathered up my clothes, and she curtsied as she exited silently, and I moved toward the vanity. I started to pull pins from my hair, not realizing how many the stylist had used to keep my hair perfectly curled and coiffed. I worked at my hair for roughly fifteen minutes before my hair fell loose. I used the comb on the table to untangle it in to soft waves down my back.

The basin's water had cooled to a nice, warm temperature by the time I approached it, and I grabbed the sponge to rub it against my neck and chest, removing the makeup that I had worn there. I washed my face gently with the warm water, reveling in the refreshing feeling.

The robe that the maid had left was a man's robe, most likely Reaver's but I slipped it on, regardless. I tied the sash around my waist, and I glanced to the doors leading out to a balcony. I crossed the room to open them, still not remotely tired.

I stepped out on to the balcony overlooking the lake. The stars glittered across the sky, and I took them in. I hadn't seen the stars in Bowerstone since Reaver's factories started popping up everywhere. My city was obscured from the stars by technology and ingenuity. I had missed them.

My father had always told me that the stars were the souls of loved ones, burning bright to keep us going. He was somewhere up there, now with my mother, and possibly his wife and children from before he'd lost them to Lucien Fairfax so many years ago. I also liked to think that Elliot was up there as well, shining just for me.

I sighed. The Darkness could take all of this away, yet no one seemed to care. All of my advisors were greedily chomping at the bit to get what was owed to them. I understood the urgency of Kalin and Sabine's causes, but some of the other people I'd made promises to didn't understand that the change would need to happen after The Darkness had been eradicated. Page seemed to be the least understanding of my plight, and she was the most cavalier about it, saying that since we had beaten Logan, that we would beat this just as easily. She wasn't in The Dark with Walter and me. She didn't understand the pure terror these beings could inflict.

I pushed away from the balcony, the chill of the air finally getting to me. I reentered the bedroom, and I walked over to the vanity, sitting down. I combed my hair out one more time before standing, deciding that I would attempt to sleep. The drink had made my body tired, but my mind raced. I moved toward the bed, untying the sash to the robe I wore, when all of the sudden the bedroom door creaked open.

I turned, and saw Reaver standing there, closing the door behind him. He hadn't yet changed out of his party attire. I closed the robe, and I went to tie the sash.

"Come, my dear, I think we're past being shy," he said, flicking a lock on the door. I noticed he had a bottle of liquor in his hand, and he strode toward the little table, grabbing the two glasses that lay there prepared.

"Reaver, I realize what happened earlier might be misleading, but you need to go," I said. "Surely, you have a room of your own in your mansion."

He poured a large amount of the amber liquid in each glass. "Whose room do you think this is, Your Majesty?"

I exhaled, combing my fingers through my hair. "You are the most manipulative man, Reaver."

He chuckled, setting the bottle down, and striding toward me. "Is this the part of our little dance where we state facts?" He snaked his arms around me, pressing my body ever so close to his. "The sky is blue. The grass is green...And you want me...desperately." His mouth was so close to mine, I could almost taste him.

He was a loathsome and degrading man, but he told the truth. I needed him down to my core. I ached for him. My lip trembled, as my eyes found his. My heart was pounding in my throat, and I tried to steady my legs.

He smiled, decidedly satisfied, and he released me. "Don't tiptoe around your desire for me, darling one. It's much better if you just give in." He walked over to the couch on the opposite side of the room, grabbing the two drinks. Setting them down, he removed his coat and tossed it across the arm of the couch. He plopped down into the soft cushion and beckoned me forth with nothing but his eyes.

I straightened, my legs like rubber, and I made my way over. I sat down on the opposite side of the couch, putting space between us, and I reached forward to grab my drink.

"So, a donation," He said, swirling the brandy in his glass. "How sizable would such a donation need to be to help fill your coffers for this little upcoming skirmish?"

I nearly rolled my eyes at his use of the words 'little skirmish,' but I instead ignored it. "It has been estimated that we require roughly six-million, five-hundred-thousand gold to stave off such a large-scale attack," I said, sipping at my drink, relieved he wanted to speak of actual business even if he didn't take it as seriously as one should. "I have raised five-million, seven-hundred thousand after contributions from my own pockets and generous donations from others."

"That is quite an impressive feat, considering how much you seem to want to spend frivolously on schools and other things of that sort."

"People need something to hope for, and perhaps a better Albion will be enough," I said, drinking deeply from my glass once more. The burning of my throat was tame compared to the heat between my thighs. I crossed my legs to try to calm myself, but no position was comfortable.

"I suppose I could contribute as much as eight-hundred-thousand, perhaps nine," He said nonchalantly, staring down into his glass.

My heart stopped. I had never expected a number so high. If he donated that much, the money would be raised. We would be secure. I gulped. "And...what would I owe you in return?"

"Perhaps a favor of my choosing, whenever I decide to call upon you," He said.

"That's all?" I asked, almost choking. I had been so sure that the price of his assistance would have been so much higher.

"I'm not going to ask you to sleep with me for the money, Your Majesty," he chuckled. "If I wanted to pay to fuck someone, I would go to a tavern and find myself a proper whore. It would be far less expensive."

A blush spread from my face to across my breast. I glanced at him, swallowing the rest of my drink.

He stood to refill my glass. "Though, the pleasure of your company would serve as a good ice-breaker to our business partnership," He said, glancing back to me.

From this angle, I was able to observe the true, unobstructed beauty of Reaver's rear end with no coat in the way, I could see how tight he liked to wear his trousers. It was probably the finest specimen I'd ever seen. I chewed my lip and averted my eyes.

"There," he said, handing me my drink. "You and that lip." He shook his head, laughing.

I downed this drink faster than the last, and he looked rather impressed.

"I didn't realize that My Liege could hold her drink so well," He said, sitting down much closer than he had been, taking my emptied glass. He set it down on the low table in front of us. His arm slid around my shoulders, and he whispered, "I can't tell, though...are you this flush from the liquor...or is that from me?" He kissed my jaw, reigniting a prickle of desire. His hand drifted up my crossed leg, and he urged me to uncross them.

My body obeyed, and he was untying the sash to my robe. His mouth met with mine, drawing my lower lip between his teeth, then running the tip of his tongue against it, and his hand trailed once more to my leg, this time, pushing the hem of my chemise up. His fingers danced up my covered thigh, stealing my breath, and as I pulled away from his kiss, I whispered, "Reaver...I..."

"How long has it been since you've felt a man's touch, my dear?" He whispered against my ear, tracing the lobe with his tongue.

"Before I left the castle, before the rebellion," I breathed as his hand came to the apex of my thighs. I brought one hand to my face, surveying the heat radiating from my cheek.

He rubbed me through the material of my bloomers. "Such a shame...you are just so ripe, but I am glad that I'll be the first to pluck your fruit in such a long time." He nipped my neck. "I can't wait to taste you." He took my mouth once more, his fingers working harder against my eager sex.

My hips trembled, and I moaned against his tongue. My hand slid down to cover his, urging him to quicken his pace. My climax exploded through me, and I gripped his hand tighter, moaning without abandon into his kiss. I broke free to catch my breath as I floated back to my body. I opened my eyes, staring up to the ceiling, everything spinning.

Before I could rightly move, Reaver was lifting me into his lap to straddle him. I could feel his stiff arousal through his trousers. It pressed flush against my sex, sending a shockwave through me. I moaned softly, and his fingers moved from my hips to the buttons at the top of my chemise. They worked deftly to access my breasts. My chemise came completely open, and I shrugged it off of my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He cupped me in each hand, and his mouth worked to caress the scars striping across my rib cage. His thumbs teased my nipples until they stood fully erect. He pinched and caressed until he eventually took each into his mouth, lathing his wet tongue across them.

I moved my hips against his, the friction sending chills down my spine. I reached to pull at his cravat, loosening it, and I blindly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open. His smooth chest was warm, and I slid my hands against it. His skin was almost as smooth as the silk of his shirt, and I raked my nails gently against him.

He hissed with pleasure, his teeth closing tenderly around my nipple, and driving his hips upward.

Panting, I pulled his mouth from my breast to ravish it desperately.

His fingers dug into the fabric covering my hips, and he fought for dominance in the kiss. Bucking my hips abruptly, I drove myself against his groin. He groaned and submitted to me, his hands falling to his sides.

I pulled away to draw in a lungful of air, and I gazed down to him. His beautiful face was flushed with exhilaration, and his eyes burned.

"I think it's about time we made our way to the bed," He said, his hand coming up to trace my spine.

I pushed up off of him, climbing to my feet with only a little hindrance, both from the alcohol and my extreme arousal. I sauntered toward the bed, closely followed by Reaver. His fingers were dipping into the top of the undergarment settled on my hips, pushing it down.

I stepped out of the last of my clothes, and I saw that he had removed his shirt back on the couch. His body was exquisite, lean and tight in all the right places, and a strong craving to touch him came over me. Reaching my hand out, I closed the gap between us before we made it to the bed. I traced the contours of his chest, then the taut muscle of his abdomen. His hands slid down my back to cup my rear. He lifted me to wrap around his waist, and I melded against him.

I felt my back touch to the bed, and he separated from me. I opened my eyes, and I saw him removing his pants, a condom in his hand. The sly bastard had it in his pocket, probably all evening. I almost said something, but I found myself unable to as I saw his thick, impressive erection spring free. He moved to lay beside me on the bed, and his fingers once again found the moist slit between my legs.

He pushed a digit inside of me, testing my readiness, and his eyes widened slightly, obviously pleased with what he found. He retrieved his finger to run my juices across his tongue, and he grinned. "I have tasted many women, my sweet_, _but you are by far the most delectable in flavor."

I had a feeling he was probably exaggerating, but I didn't precisely care at the moment.

He parted my legs, and he moved to settle between them, placing delicate kisses in a trail that no man had ever taken before. It had never occurred to Elliot and myself to please each other with our mouths, though our time together always had to be brief. I tore my mind away from Elliot, and I focused on what the wicked man between my legs was doing.

He dipped his head down to lick the length of my sensitive arousal. I moaned louder than I would have liked, but the brandy was hitting me, and my inhibitions were slipping away. He sucked my sensitive bud between his lips as he slid two fingers into my core, pleasuring me in a rhythm that set me on fire.

I gripped the sheets beneath me, my heart thudding as my body trembled, anticipating release.

My toes curled, and I felt my muscles begin to tighten and clench. My breathing had become ragged in a very short amount of time, and my head was spinning. I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning back onto the pillow as my body arched up off of the bed. My climax crackled through me like electricity, and the moan that left my throat was almost a cry of victory. My fingers found his soft chestnut hair, and they tangled in it, holding him to me, telling him how much I needed him. I moaned his name, and my body fell back into the softness of the bed.

Reaver lifted his face, and a smug smile drifted across his exceptionally skilled mouth. He rose to press his moist mouth against mine, and the taste of myself on his lips affected me strongly. His hand drifted down my side, tickling my rib cage, then my hips, as he pressed his stiff arousal against my entrance. He must have worked the condom on while I was utterly distracted by his mouth. In one fluid motion, he was inside of me.

I gasped, pulling my mouth away from his. I had never been so utterly full before, and the delicious sensation spread through me like my blood was molten. I clung to him as he started a slow, torturous rhythm.

He groaned softly against my ear, "You are just too exquisite."

Many minutes, or maybe hours passed as we moved against each other in euphoria. I had climaxed more times than my drunken mind had been able to keep count of, but Reaver persisted, his stamina obviously that of a true expert, his hips relentless.

He separated from me to roll onto his back, and I followed closely. Straddling him, I moved to grip his manhood. I pumped it up and down in my hand before he took control and burrowed himself deep inside of me once more. His hands clutched at my hips, and his eyes, filled with a silent demand, met with mine.

His hands moved me on top of him, educating me on how to please him. I had always been a fast learner, and soon enough, his hands moved to caress and stroke my body all over. I ground and circled my hips, reveling in the sensation of it all. My body was growing tired, but I wouldn't stop without giving him his end. My hands roamed up his torso, and I swirled my fingers against the lean muscle of his chest.

His lips parted as his breathing grew louder. His fingers slid back down to my hips, biting into the soft flesh. His hips drove upward into me, and our bodies moved together to push him over his edge. He moaned, his hips trembling as he continued to assault me from below. His fingers dug almost painfully into my hips with a strength I hadn't known he possessed, but soon enough, he fell still, his eyes closing.

I separated hesitantly from him, and I lay back against the pillows, glancing over to him.

His hand found mine blindly, and he brought it to his smirking lips. "That was truly scrumptious," He breathed. "I had no idea you were such a zealous lover." He released my hand, and it fell limply against the pillow beside my head.

My chest rose and fell steadily as I closed my eyes. I drifted off to sleep quickly, vaguely feeling his body press against mine, and his hands gliding possessively over me.

**A/N: I warned you, though I hope you enjoyed it. I am working on the next chapter, so maybe I will post twice in one day! Tatty-bye, everyone!**


	6. Reaver's Handsome Little Fellow

-Chapter Five-

The world was on fire. My Albion was on fire. I stood frozen as I stared at it all. I looked to my sides, and I saw Walter on one side, his eyes black and empty, as they had been in Aurora, I couldn't stand to look at him. I turned, and I saw Reaver, watching the chaos with his goggles pulled tightly over his eyes. Page and Ben stood together, watching in horror. Then nothing. Utter blackness.

_You will die. All will die. Screaming. And alone. _The Crawler's voice echoed clearly through my mind.

I felt like I was suffocating, I couldn't breathe. I was drowning in the darkness. I could feel it like a physical thing, wrapping around and devouring me.

* * *

I woke gasping for breath. Sitting up, I saw that the bed was empty next to me, and I was relieved. I couldn't imagine explaining my fears and nightmares to Reaver. I drew in a deep breath, almost afraid to close my eyes, to be back in that darkness. The sun had not risen yet, but I saw that a lamp still burned safely on the other side of the room. I wrapped my arms around my knees, holding back my tears, staring into the light. My heart started to slow, and the pain writhing in my muscles started to wane.

The nightmares were worsening as the as The Darkness approached. I could only imagine what Walter was going through. The Crawler's Influence had gripped him much tighter. It had blinded him, made him live the darkness, if only for a short time.

I moved to stand, and I saw that Reaver had left that bottle of brandy. I stretched my legs as I stood, and found that the most tender place of all lay between them. I crossed the room to grab my glass from last night, and I poured myself a generous amount of the stuff. I didn't usually drink this much, but the stress fell squarely on my shoulders. I drank my drink as fast as I could before pouring another. I moved back to the table, and I drank it down quickly before setting the glass back down next to Reaver's. I stumbled back to the bed, and I laid back, waiting to fall back asleep.

I turned onto my side, and I pulled the extra pillow to my chest, breathing deeply. I closed my eyes and gulped. I already felt drowsy, but the terror still held fast onto me. I didn't want to be alone in the dark again. I let out a shaky breath, trying to think of the my father.

When I was younger, his mere presence would chase away any nightmares I had. I could still see his crooked smile and his deep amber eyes. He would stroke my hair, and tell me that dreams were only our minds reminding us of what was important, whether it be important to remember or important to stay away from. I gripped the pillow a little tighter, and I remembered the times that Jasper had carried me to my father's study as he worked tirelessly into the night. He always stopped what he was doing to see to it that I fell asleep once more.

I sighed, my thoughts no longer full of darkness and night, and I was able to drift back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

I woke to a tickling sensation running up my back, and I groaned, rolling onto my stomach. My head pounded and my body ached. The sensation spread, and I realized it was a gloved hand, trailing up and down my back. I opened an eye, and I peered through my hair to see Reaver sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and ready for the day. I hadn't expected him to be around to greet me when I woke, but I was in his bedroom, after all.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," he said. "I trust you slept well."  
I said nothing, just collapsed back into the bed, closing my eyes, shielding them from the offending light that made my head throb so.

"Come now, Your Highness, you've slept nearly half the day away," Reaver chided me, clicking his tongue. "The early bird catches the worm, _carpe diem_...and all that other blither that people say."

"Go...away," I managed to grumble, opening an eye once more.

He smiled, obviously enjoying my torment, and he pushed my hair out of my face. The light reached my eyes more readily, and I pulled my hand up to cover them.

"I've come to inform you that your only remaining guard has come down ill from too much drink, as have you, it seems."

I pulled the sheets up, and I rolled onto my back. I uncovered my eyes and I dared to open them again. "I need to return to Bowerstone," I said, my voice a little hoarse.

"The bandits are still about, my lady," He said, his eyes looking down to the sheet covering my naked body. "It would be dangerous for you to attempt to make it back to Bowerstone by yourself."

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Reaver," I said, sitting up and folding my arms over my chest.

"Oh, I don't doubt your abilities, but in your current state, would you be truly effective against a large band of brutes?"

"I believe I can manage."

"You have no other clothes than your formal attire," He offered as an excuse.

I pushed myself out of bed, and I strode, across the room, not even bothering to cover my nakedness anymore, it would only give him a reason to prod and tease me even more. I opened his wardrobe and I glanced it. "It seems you have plenty of clothes to spare, Reaver."

He opened his mouth to speak, but he instead chose to say nothing.

I pulled out a pair of trousers that looked far too short to belong to him. Unclaimed clothes must be an epidemic in Reaver's household.

"I see that you are helping yourself to clothes, and I welcome you to it," he said. "Though, I still wonder how you plan on making it to Bowerstone in your weakened state? And may I add that my carriages still have not returned from taking my guests home."

"I will walk," I said. "The fresh air will do me good."

"Now, I insist that I accompany you," He said, as if it were decided. "I was planning on taking lunch on the lake, but since you seem so eager to leave me..." He stood behind me now, his fingertips tracing up the curve of my backside.

I whipped around, and I looked up to him. "You didn't have your fill of me last night?"

"Not even close, my croquette," He said, his voice dropping an octave. "But...I suppose you are right. There is business I need to attend to in Bowerstone. I believe I have a contribution to make."

I was glad to hear that he seemed to be serious about the donation. I found a shirt that looked as if it would fit me, and I laid it over my arm on top of the breeches.

"Wait just a moment, my dear," Reaver said, stepping over to the bookshelf on the far side of the room. He pulled a book down, and he reached behind where it had sat. He must have clicked a hidden switch, because the bookcase parted, opening the way to a secret room. I couldn't begin to imagine what was down there, but my gut told me it wasn't a library.

I didn't dare enter after he went down, but he returned with a coat, vest, and a pair of boots, all looking like they would fit me. He put the book back on its shelf, and the secret entrance was closed quickly.

Reaver laid the clothes on the bed, and he beckoned me to him. I grabbed my underthings on the way over, but he grabbed my bloomers and tossed them to the side.

"You won't be needing those," He said. "Don't worry. I will keep them safe for you." He took the clothes from me, smoothing them out on the bed. I put my chemise on.

As I slid into the clothes, he simply watched, seemingly amused. He tied a cravat into a loose bow, and he straightened my collar. "I've seen men dressed as women, but this is the first time I've seen a woman dressed completely as a man."

"Maybe it will make me a little more anonymous on the trip to Bowerstone," I suggested.

"In that case, we can tuck your hair into a hat," He said, obviously enjoying this little game of dress-up.

I nodded, agreeing. Maybe we'd be able to slip through any bandits without confrontation. I was too hungover to fight at my full effectiveness.

* * *

I declined his offer of lunch with him before leaving. I was eager to be back home. I had much that needed to be done. I walked with my arms crossed over my chest, and my eyes staring off into the distance.

"May I just say how utterly confusing...and arousing it is to see you dressed so androgynously..." Reaver noted as we started down the path away from Bower Lake.

I glanced over to him, a small smile cracking on my face. "I'm glad you enjoy it. It's quite comfortable compared to being squeezed into a corset every morning."

He smirked, and he nodded. "Yes, they are quite restrictive, aren't they?"

I decided not to indulge my curiosity. "And I rather like the hat." I ran my fingers across the brim of the short top hat that Reaver had chosen to finish the ensemble.

He looked over to me once more, his eyes moving up and down, taking me in. "It looks very handsome on you." Reaver took my arm and looped it with his, so that it appeared we were simply out for a leisurely stroll, and I straightened a little.

I said nothing, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Part of me was finding Reaver less despicable, despite everything. I had never felt such unbridled passion with anyone before. I had loved Elliot, and he had been a gentle and considerate lover...But Reaver was something completely different. His touch affected me like nothing else. Even strolling arm in arm with him send my body into a tizzy.

We walked in silence for a few moments before Reaver sighed.

"Am I to be responsible for all the conversation?" He lamented, his eyes finding mine and rolling slightly before returning to the path before us.

"What do you want to talk about, Reaver?" I asked as I raised my eyebrows and pressed my lips together.

"Well, for one, I would like to comment on your stamina last night," He said sounding casual, but his eyes slashed over to smolder at me. "It's so rare that I find someone with stamina comparable to my own. It was quite refreshing. I usually go though two or three lovers before my thirst is quenched."

I rolled my eyes.

"I do not joke, my fine _chap_. I am trying to pay you a compliment," He laughed.

"Reaver, I-"

A man in all black stepped out from behind a wide-trunked tree, brandishing a shining cutlass. "You lads look like you're enjoying yourselves. Why don't you hand over your purses, and you can be on your merry-"

Reaver's hand moved faster than I could see, and after a loud gunshot, the bandit fell dead, a hole precisely over his heart.

"You killed Terry!" cried one of the bandit's companions as a group of about a dozen ran from behind the tree.

Reaver released me, and he eyed Terry's blade on the ground, giving me a silent suggestion.

"It's Reaver and one of his little boys!" yelled another one. "Get 'em!"

I reached for the blade, and I swung it at one of the lunging bandits. It sliced easily through him. The hat flew off of my head as I moved, and my hair fell loose.

"That little bastard's a girl!" cried another of the bandits before I slew him.

Reaver had shot down three of the dozen men, and he worked at reloading his pistol as quickly as possible, while I shielded him from any incoming attack. My blade met with another's and I brought my knee up to connect with the man's groin, and he let out a strangled cry. Dispatching him as quickly as the last, I held my hand out to the force of three men charging me, and I used my Will to knock them flat on their backs.

Reaver, freshly reloaded, took down three more men, and he turned just in time to see me fighting off the three recovering men that I'd just sent flying. "Get down!" He yelled, and I immediately obeyed. He took out two of the men with one bullet, and I slashed at the ankles of the last. He fell, squealing, onto his stomach, and I raised up to drive the point of my blade into his back.

As I climbed to my feet, I saw that the area was strewn with bandit corpses, but no more men were in sight. I tossed the blade down on top of one of the bodies, and I stood breathlessly.

Reaver stowed his Dragonstomper, and he strode over to me, wiping a spatter of blood from my cheek. "I take it that you are unharmed?"

I nodded, my heart pounding.

He clutched my hips, dragging me toward him, and his mouth claimed mine vigorously.

My stomach jumped, and I wrapped my fingers around the lapel of his coat, my blood thudding heavily through my body. Fighting had always thrilled me, but this was something that had never happened to me before. We were moving toward the tree where the bandits had concealed themselves, and he pressed me against the trunk of the tree, and pulled away for air as he fumbled with the buttons to my breeches.

"Reaver, we are in broad daylight," I gasped, pushing at his hand.

"You say that as if it would change my mind," He said, pushing the pants down off of my hips. "I do love a good tumble after a good tumble." He turned me away from him, grinning like mad.

I steadied myself against the tree, glancing around to make sure that no one approached. My heart was racing. I had never anticipated this.

"Now hold tight, darling." He said, his hand drifting up my vest to caress my breasts through my shirt. "We have to make quick work of this one."

* * *

We had dallied long enough. I pulled my trousers up, tucking my shirt neatly back in. I was still breathless, and I looked back to Reaver. He had found a crate hidden behind a bush.

"Well, looky what I happened upon," He said, He pulled an armful of fat purses of gold from the crate. "It seems our little friends had been rather successful until they decided to throw themselves at us."

I tucked my hair back inside of the hat, and I watched as he put as much gold in his pockets as he could fit. I rolled my eyes a little, but I reminded myself that this was Reaver. I saw him pull a silver case from his pocket and retrieve a cigarette. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Well, shall we be off, my pet?" He asked, holding out his arm once more. "Perhaps we won't be ambushed by bandits again."

My hands were raw from rubbing against the bark, and my gait was slightly bow-legged as I stepped back toward him. I looped my arm in his, and he lit his cigarette.

The rest of the walk to Bowerstone was uneventful. Reaver spoke of the trivial acquaintances from the ball the night before, giving lurid secrets and details about each of them, and I listened, though not really interested in who had slept with whose husband or wife. More often than not, Reaver had been the who. He laughed and talked casually about his love-life, completely unashamed on who he'd taken on as his lovers.

I, on the other hand, was feeling very shameful about the events since the party. I had given into temptation twice now. I wasn't sure what Reaver wanted from me, but he had to have something more devious than just sex planned for me.

When we reached the outskirts of the market district, I released his arm, and I said, "I can make it from here."

"Are you sure, my handsome boy?" He asked, his eyes full of mirth. "I could see you safely home and perhaps to bed if you find yourself very exerted from all of our...activities." He took my hands in his, bringing them to his mouth and kissing each.

"Reaver, I will see you when you bring the gold for the donation," I said pulling my hands back from his.

"You know that I have a problem with the word 'no'," He informed me. "It only makes me try that much harder to hear 'yes'."

"Goodbye, Reaver," I said, turning away.

He grabbed my hand and drew me back against him. I had to hold onto my hat to keep it from flying away and revealing my identity to those who now stared at Reaver and his—what they could only assume to be—boy. . He pressed a short, yet heated kiss against my mouth, and he released me, satisfied that he had proven his point and had the last say.

"Goodbye, Reaver," I repeated, though this time a little rattled. I adjusted the hat, and I took off towards Bowerstone Castle.

"Did you see that?" a woman walking behind me whispered loudly to her companion. "So shameful. Can't that wretched man keep his hands off of anyone, even in public?"

I felt my face redden, and I moved my hat further down, obscuring my face even more.

"You're just mad because he doesn't have his hands all over you," The woman's friend giggled.

The original woman joined in the laughter. "Yes. You're right, but did you hear who else he couldn't keep his hands off of?"

My heart stopped, and I nearly tripped over an uneven stone in the cobbled ground. I kept moving swiftly, listening intently to the conversation behind me.

"No," The second woman asked. "What happened?"

"My husband's sister's nephew attended the party that Mister Reaver threw for The Queen last night, and he said that Reaver couldn't keep his hands off of the Queen," She said.

"Did he say how she reacted?" The other woman asked excitedly.

"No. He said they danced in a way that suggested they knew each other _very_ well."

"Just dancing?"

"That's all anyone saw."

"That hardly suggests scandal."

"But the way he doted on her... My sister-in-law's nephew heard someone saying they wouldn't be surprised if he attempted to actually court her."

"Could you imagine The Queen marrying _him?_" The high-voiced woman guffawed. "Prince Reaver."

"He'd have to sneak thin, pretty boys like that one into the castle behind her back."

Both women broke into unashamed laughter, and I quickened my pace. I hoped that no other rumors had been ignited so quickly. I glanced back to the women, who just now noticed that I had been listening, and they quieted. They both looked like they had enjoyed a tad too much wine with lunch.

I made my way toward the castle, and those women ducked into a shop, trying to put distance between us. I was thankful.

As I reached the main gates to the castle, I was stopped by guards.

"Halt, boy" said one of them, holding his hand out. "You need to have official business to enter the castle today."

I glanced about, making sure the coast was clear before I removed my hat.

The guard's eyes widened, and he bowed quickly. "I apologize, Your Majesty, I did not see that it was you."

"It's quite alright," I said. "I am eager to be home."

He glanced over my strange attire, and he escorted me inside of the gates.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this one, as well. I will try to keep submitting chapters timely! Let me know what you think!**


	7. Darkness

-Chapter Six-

I swore I heard a squeal of delight from Hobson when Reaver motioned for his men to enter the throne room with his donation. It took many chests to carry that much gold. When the last pair of men set the last chest down, they all opened them in unison. The gold was glittering, and undoubtedly all there. Walter whistled low, his eyes wide. I stood from my place on the throne, and I walked to shake Reaver's hand.

"Thank you so much for you donation, Sir," I said formally.

He kissed my hand instead of shaking it, as per usual, and he nodded. "It is no problem at all, My Lady." His mouth met my knuckles once more.

All of the delightful, sinful things that he had done with that mouth came rushing to mind, and I pulled my hand away, moving to walk around the chests, looking down into the glittering wealth within. "Now, Reaver, I want to ask you about how you intend to fortify your factories in case of disaster."

He put a hand over his heart, and he smiled. "It touches me so that you worry about my wealth and well being, Your Majesty, but I have private security that I have hired for just such an occasion. There's no need to fret."

Arthur entered the throne room, his eyes finding Reaver quickly. "Master Reaver, there's been a problem with shipping at the textile plant. They need your assistance in...setting things straight." He bowed to me, an after thought. "Your Majesty, I am sorry to interrupt."

All of the humor and light drained from Reaver's face, and he gripped the top of his walking stick tightly. "I suppose I will have to skip dinner this evening in favor of business, Your Majesty." As he turned to me, he gave me an apologetic smile, a hint of wistfulness mixed in with it all. "Perhaps, another night."

I nodded. "Of course, Reaver. It's always a pleasure to have you at my table."

"I bid you good evening, Your Majesty," he said, bowing grandly and striding off to grab Arther by his upper arm, obviously intending to give him a piece of his mind as soon as they were out of sight.

Walter came to stand next to me, and he asked, "Were you just civil to Reaver?"

I paused before answering. "He just brought nearly a million gold to help against The Darkness, and and he made sure that his guests were seen safely home last night."

Walter made the over-protective face that he was so good at. "It was very convenient that he had no room for anyone but _you_."

"Walter, there's no need to be concerned," I lied. I had never lied to Walter before. I didn't like the way it tasted in my mouth.

"He sent you home with no escort...and in men's clothes, what am I supposed to think, Lily?" He asked quietly.

"Reaver walked me personally from his estate to Bowerstone," I said. "And I had no other clothes to wear for such a journey, so he offered me some of his servant's clothes. None of his maids were as tall as I am."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry to accuse you, Your Majesty. I trust you."

I felt a pang ring through my heart, and I smiled. "Well, it seems I am eating dinner alone, Walter. Would you like to join me?"

A smile spread slowly across his face. "Only if you promise that you won't try to drink me under the table tonight."

I laughed. "I have to give you a chance to defeat me, don't I?'

* * *

The next weeks drifted by too quickly. I was so busy with arranging Albion's security that I'd had to cancel dinner with Reaver on three separate occasions. After the third cancellation, he stopped coming to court, but he still wrote me to express how very disappointed he was to see so little of me. I figured he'd found a way to cope or someone to cope with. The thought wounded me slightly, but I had to remind myself of whom I was thinking.

On top of organizing battle strategy, Hobson kept insisting that we throw an anniversary celebration. I did this mostly to placate the public in the midst of rumors of war. I stared over the map of Bowerstone, trying to find all of the places I wanted to send soldiers.

"Here," said Logan, pointing his finger down in Industrial. "Reaver's factories will be left vulnerable, even with his personal security. You will need him after this battle."

I laid a blue maker where he'd gestured, and I sighed. My mind was numb and full of strategy and locations for our forces to lie low. I rubbed my temples.

"Sister, you need rest," Logan insisted. "Let me help you, help Albion. If I had only been honest with you from the start..."

I shook my head, putting my hand on Logan's shoulder. "I need to see this through, but I do need your help."

He offered a soft smile, and he grabbed a few markers from my hand, placing them at more key locations. "There...that should be sufficient. Am I correct in assuming that you will be out there fighting?"

I nodded. "I think you're right." I glanced around the board. "And yes, of course."

"Good, you can fight like no one else, and I will be at your side," He said, a true grin finding his mouth. He raked his hand through his dark hair. "Come Lily, I think it's time for you to get some proper rest. We've only a few days left before this comes to a head."

"I'm fine, Logan," I sighed. "I would much rather spend time with the people I care about." I motioned for him to join me in sitting down.

We sat down, and he sighed heavily.

"I never got to ask you about Reaver's party," Logan noted, raising an eyebrow to me. "Was it as boring as I remember them?"

"Yes," I said. "There were so many people there that I didn't know, but the dancing was not so bad, except for when I danced with Ben."

"Yes," He said with a nod. "I also heard a disconcerting rumor..."

Anxiety gripped me, and I crossed my legs at the ankles.

"I know that I'm your brother and this type of situation can be awkward, but I need to know if I need to pay our friend a visit," Logan said, stumbling over the words slightly.

I felt my cheeks burning, so I stood rapidly to make my way to the bar.

"That, right there, why are you so nervous?" He asked, rising after me "Did he do something to hurt you?"

I sighed, turning toward him. "No, Logan. I am a grown woman, and I can take care of myself."

Logan seemed unconvinced. "Reaver is very good at letting people see only what he wants them to. I don't want you to get hurt."

I poured us each a glass of whiskey, Logan's favorite. I handed him his glass and I said, "I see a lot more than you think, Logan."

He closed his eyes, and he shook his head. "Please, let's not fight. I'm sorry for bringing this up."

I finished my whiskey quickly, and I moved to give my brother a hug, and he reciprocated stiffly.

"Please...be careful with him," He said softly. "I wouldn't want to have to kill him."

I couldn't be sure if he was serious or not. "Logan, I assure you, you will not have to kill Reaver. If anyone gets to, I'm sure Page would love a go at it."

Logan's face cracked, and he smiled.

* * *

I stood in the garden, at the furthest edge, watching the sunrise. Today was the day. Would this be the last sunrise that Albion would ever see? I knew we had the forces and the resource to fight this thing, but in the back of my mind a question arose. _Can one truly ever beat Darkness?_ I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I saw that Logan and Walter approached, obviously out here for the same reason I was. I took each of their hands, squeezing them gently.

I stood with my family as the sun climbed up from the horizon.

"I'm scared," I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.

"You'd be insane not to be," Walter said, gulping down fear of his own.

"We can do this, Lily," Logan assured me. "You should know what a Hero can do...because you _are_ one."

I let out a shaking breath, wiping my tears away before they fell. "We can, can't we?"

"We may not come through as we once were, but we will make it," my brother said, releasing my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulders. "I have faith that you will pull Albion through this, my sister, My Queen."

I looked over to him, and I offered him a weak smile. "I should be going. Hobson is probably waiting for me in the Treasury, as always."

"Yes, the man is a nuisance," Logan agreed, chuckling.

* * *

When I exited the other realm, equipped with new mastery of each of my skills. I pulled my blade and gripped my favorite pistol in hand. The dark creatures were approaching, and I glanced over to Ben, then to Walter. "We can do this," I said. With Logan and Page, a very unlikely team, splitting up to sweep Industrial and Sabine and Kalin working the ruins of old town, I was positive that we would succeed.

"Hell yeah!" Ben concurred, lifting his rifle triumphantly.

Walter drew his sword, and we moved into battle, slashing and shooting at the black shadowy imps. As we made our way through Bowerstone, we faced enemies quickly, the elite forces having cleared a lot of the way. I could feel an invisible string of darkness drawing me toward the center of the city, and I followed it, knowing that The Crawler would be there waiting for us.

I shot one of the metal creatures, like the one Reaver had at his home. I wondered if The Crawler's presence in Bowerstone had affected it at all. We moved toward the bridge toward Industrial. I dug my blade deep into a shadow, and I withdrew it.

"Lily, behind you!" Ben shouted, firing.

I whipped around to see a beam of shadows forming behind me. I rolled out of the way, and I lunged at the massive beast responsible for it.  
"I can shoot through its armor!" Ben yelled to me.

I drew my pistol to assist in whittling away the creature's defenses.

When it fell, we turned a corner, and I breathed heavily. I only heard one pair of feet following behind me.

I turned to see Walter, catching up to me. "Where's Ben?" My eyebrows raised.

"I-" Walter panted. "I don't bloody know. He was there one moment, and then..." He shrugged.

"We have to keep going," I said, taking off running again.

"I can feel it," Walter said, as we strode under an archway. "We're getting close to that thing."

He whipped around, his eyes darting around the area. "Where are you? Show yourself!"

The fleshy form of The Crawler appeared before him. "The lost sheep returns to the flock. No one ever leaves The Darkness behind." The creature grasped his face, as it roared, and it buried its arm deep in Walter's throat.

"No!" Walter gurgled.

I rushed forward, but I was too late. The thing was inside of him.

"Do you see? Do you see what you've allowed? We are all shadows now," said Walter as he drew his sword against me.

I pulled my sword in defense. "Walter?"

"I will tear you," Walter said.

I didn't know if I could fight him. It was Walter's body I'd be hurting. I brought my sword up to block his first blow, and I threw my arm out, pushing him onto his back with a push of force. I couldn't bring myself to strike him yet. I needed to forget that it was Walter. I needed to defeat The Crawler.

It lunged at me once more, and I countered with a ball of electricity and a quick step to the side. As he stumbled forward, I slashed at his back, and I stood, ready for another attack.

The beast fought relentlessly with Walter's body, taunting me and trying to scare me the whole time. I gritted my teeth, as we locked swords for a good long time. It was strong, but I had to be stronger. For Walter. For Albion. I kicked him in the gut, bringing him to his knees, and I deflected the weak sword strike. I pushed my sword into my friend's stomach, my eyes streaming tears.

"You will die," He rasped. "Alone. In The Dark. You all will."

He fell, the Crawler's presence dissipating, and rain started to drizzle down on top of us. I rushed forward, pulling Walter close, onto my lap.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking.

"You took away The Darkness. It's been inside me all this time, but it's light now. I can see the sky...and it's light." He coughed weakly, trying to draw in a breath. "I don't think I can fight anymore."

"It's over, Walter," I said, "We won. We beat it together." As if that could change things, I wiped at my face.

He smiled faintly."Do you remember the stories I'd tell you when you were a child? 'There was a great King once, the mightiest Hero of them all.' Remember what you would say?"

"Teach me...to be a Hero," I said, grasping his hand tightly in mine.

"You've done me proud, girl. You've always...done me proud..." He exhaled one last time.

"Walter..." I wept, slumping forward a little. I heard footfalls behind me.

"Oh, Walter..." Ben said softly, from behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

More of our group approached, and I heard Logan gasp before he quickened his pace towards me and Walter.

"Is he still...?" He asked, crouching before us.

I looked up to Logan, my tears blurring my vision of him, and I shook my head grimly.

His bleeding face contorted into one of sadness and guilt. He put his hand over mine that laid across Walter's chest. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you, old friend," He said sadly, his voice tight.

I pushed myself to my feet, Walter still cradled in my arms, and I turned to walk in the direction of the palace. Logan was at one side, his hand on my shoulder, and Ben was at my other, his eyes full of his own tears. Page, Kalin, and Sabine followed us as we made our way through the streets, carrying Walter home.

It was night, now, and the people finally realized that it was over and very few had perished. There was celebration in the streets, and fireworks being shot into the air. All of Albion was surely in celebrarion, but I couldn't do it. I wiped a tear from my face. It was a tear of sadness, and joy, and relief. The Crawler had been defeated and banished from Albion, but the victory did not go without cost. Walter, my mentor, my friend was gone. I leaned down against the rail of the balcony. More tears flooded down my face, and I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see Logan, the side of his face freshly bandaged.

I turned, and he took me into his arms. The burden we had both bore was now gone. I buried my face into his chest, relieved to have my brother at my side for this monumental win, and the loss that came with it.

"Lily, let's get you to bed," He suggested. "You must be exhausted."

I nodded, letting him guide me back toward the doors inward. I glanced behind my shoulder, and I saw a hint of the stars peeking from behind the smoke the fireworks created. Thank you Walter, for always fighting for Albion, for always fighting for me

He sat me down on the bed, and he stepped backward. "Please try to get some rest, Lilyana, something tells me the people will want to hear from you tomorrow."

I sighed. I was in no mood for speech-making. I wanted to sleep for a week, and then cry for another after that. I knew I would hardly get what I wanted, though. I nodded to Logan, "Good night."

"Good night," he said. "And Lily...?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." He offered me half of a smile.

"I love you too, Logan," I returned, nodding.

He left the bedroom, and I leaned back against the pillows. My eyes focused on the deep red of the canopy above my head, and I sighed. I wondered how much damage there was around the city. I hoped it was minimal. I closed my eyes, thinking of how we could honor Walter, and sleep took me quickly.

** A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I may make a few tweaks to it, but nothing major. More to come soon!**


	8. A Royal Appointment

-Chapter Seven-

The people gathered around the castle for my speech. I drew in a deep breath, trying to steady my anxious stomach. Speaking publicly was one of my faults. My knees trembled, and I strode out onto the balcony to address the people. There were so many squeezed into the grounds surrounding the palace, and further out the gate toward Bowerstone Market. I exhaled, assuring myself that I could do this.

"Thank you for being here," I said, finding my voice a little too quiet. I spoke louder. "Albion is safe, thanks to our brave soldiers, and the people who put the armor on their backs. Our war was won with ingenuity and preparation, and now we have the chance to rebuild."

The people cheered.

"Our victory was not completely without loss," I said, looking across the crowd of people. "There are some things that were lost that can not be rebuilt, but we will carry on. We are the people of Albion, and we are strong."

"I encourage you to go back to business as usual. Keep our great country's heart beating, and we will be stronger than ever. Thank you, and good day."

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. I waved for a moment before turning to retreat back into the castle. The room was empty of all but my guards, and I sat down into the chair behind my desk.

"That was a very good speech, my lady," my new personal guard Ewan said, nodding. The man seemed to be made of pure muscle. I'd wager even his eyelids were strong. He had a crooked nose, but an otherwise handsome face with bright green eyes and straw-colored hair.

"Thank you, Ewan," I replied, bringing my eyes up to him. "I'm usually not so good at speeches."

"Good rulers let their actions speak louder than words, Your Highness," He said, offering another nod.

I smiled, returning to my work, and he returned to his.

A new stack of letters had been deposited for me to read. I had shirked this duty the past couple of days, but I had been assured that none of the letters contained anything pressing. I grabbed one from the top of the pile, recognizing the familiar pattern stamped into red wax seal. I slid my finger to break the seal, and I unfolded the letter.

_My Queen,_

_I was thrilled to hear that the battle was won, and my factories still stand. I also heard of the loss of Sir Walter Beck, and you have my sympathies. I understand you were very close. _

_There is good news in this letter, though. My business is finished, and I shall return to Bowerstone within the next few days. It is my hope to offer myself to help you with anything you require. I am eager, as always, to alleviate your stress and worries. _

_-Reaver_

Even his handwriting was sultry. I inspected the letter. To an unknowing person, the letter was just a simple letter of sympathy, but I knew better. I closed the thing, and I slid it between the pages of the book I planned on reading later. I opened more letters, they were all letters of congratulations and declarations of the miracle that had just happened.

I stacked the letters neatly, needing to remind my secretary to write letters of thanks in reply. I thought on an issue Hobson had brought up earlier, and I sighed. With Walter gone, the role of Advisor to The Queen was vacant. My first choice would have been Logan, as he had ruled for so many years, but we both knew that the people still had not forgiven him and his reign. I didn't trust Hobson enough to take the position, and Jasper had already expressed that such a position would not suit him. The only person that was left was Reaver. I sighed, and I rubbed at my temples. I was sure what people would think with the rumors already spreading around of our supposed courtship. I chewed on my bottom lip, and I grabbed a piece of parchment.

I dipped my pen in the ink, and I wrote my letters soft and feminine.

_Reaver,_

_I have a matter of great importance that I wish to discuss with you. Please contact me as soon as you are available for a meeting. _

_-Lilyana R._

I let the ink dry, while I looked over the soft, round letters. I found it strange that I trusted Reaver over the likes of Hobson, but I supposed I must trust Reaver, even if only a little. I'd given myself to him in a way I'd only done with one other. I folded the letter, and I poured the wax over it, stamping it quickly with my seal before it dried.

I wrote Reaver's information on the face of the folded letter, and I laid it on an empty corner of my desk to be sent later.

"Your Majesty," Hobson said, entering the room. "People have gathered in the throne room for court. They await your presence."

"Thank you, Hobson," I said, rising to my feet.

Ewan stepped to my side, and we walked toward the hallway.

"Presenting Her Majesty Lilyana, Queen of Albion and defender of all of Her people," Announced the herald as I crossed the threshold of the throne room. Ewan escorted me to the throne, and he then took his place off to the side.

I sat down, and I laid my hands gently in my lap.

"The first order of business is a petition rallying for the reconstruction of Bowerstone Old Quarter," Hobson announced. "Page will state her case."

Page stepped forward, not making eye contact with me. "Your Majesty," she said, curtsying.

"Please, Page, speak," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"You failed to rebuild after the revolution, but I implore you to rebuild now," she said. She put an extra emphasis on the word _failed _that did not escape me. My cheeks burned a little with anger, but I contained myself. "The people deserve this, Your Majesty."

"I have no intention of letting the Old Quarter go any longer without restoration," I said. "It will be rebuilt, and as many already know, I owned quite a few of the buildings that were destroyed in the revolution. I propose that those willing to invest money in the Old Quarter's restoration will be given first chance to purchase the property."

Page's eyes widened, not sure what to think. She cleared her throat, and she curtsied, "Thank you, Your Majesty." She curtsied once more, and she relinquished the floor to the next petition.

"The second order of business is the petition to improve factory conditions in Bowerstone Industrial," Hobson read.

I sighed, ready for court to be over, and I listened to the factory worker. He explained that, though things had improved slightly in the past year, more could be done to ensure that the treatment of the workers continued to get better.

"I will see to it that factory standards are raised, and that the people that work so hard for their wage will be also paid in dignity and respect." As I finished my sentence, I saw someone slipping into the throne room, his tall stovepipe hat distinguishing him quickly from everyone else. He wore a black fur-lined coat, and he looked absolutely refreshed. I averted my eyes toward Hobson, who was now opening the floor for people with any other issues to lay them at my feet.

The first woman came forward, and she bowed deeply.

"My name is Madeline Brisby. I have no issue with you, Your Majesty," She said, her eyes turning up to me. "I merely wanted to express my humble gratitude for all you've done. Those things...they would have killed me and my family if you had not stationed soldiers nearby. My family owes you everything...I owe you everything."

I smiled warmly. "You owe me nothing, Madeline. In protecting you and your family, I was doing what I swore to do when I took the throne. Thank you for your kind words."

She returned my smile, and she turned to rejoin the crowd.

I brought my eyes back out to the crowd, but the sought out one person automatically. He stood near the back. Our eyes met across the room, and a jolt of electricity rippled through me. I straightened, and I took my eyes away for a moment. When I returned them, I saw that he was still fixated on me, his lips curled upward.

"Your Majesty," said a man approaching me. "I wished to express my hopes that you will renovate the transportation industry. With the sabotage of the monorail those years ago..."

When court ended, I left the throne room, escorted by Hobson and Ewan. Reaver was nowhere to be found, now. I figured he'd need to return to his factories after his extended absence. I would need to return to my room to prepare for the artist that would arrive later this afternoon. I didn't particularly want to be painted, but it was either that or have a statue erected. It was expected. I only had a few more sittings left for the portrait, and for that, I was thankful.

Hobson and Ewan left me at the bedroom door.

I entered my bedroom in a hurry, glancing around until my eyes fell on Reaver, who was seated in the wingback chair in the corner. His legs were crossed, and his feet rested on the low table in front of him. He had been reading one of the books from from the shelf, and he closed it upon seeing me. He stood, a grin on his face.

"What are you doing in my bedchamber, Reaver?" I asked, closing the door behind me.

"Not happy to see me?" Reaver asked, faking disappointment as he stood. "I had rather hoped to get a nice hello." He faux-sighed, running his hand through his tousled chestnut hair. "I do wish you would at least smile. All of that frowning will cause wrinkles, my dear, and why tarnish such a lovely face with such horrible worry lines?"

"Reaver, I would appreciate it if you stepped outside, at least for a moment," I requested, unbuttoning my coat. "I need to change clothes for the portrait."

"Now why would I do that?" He cocked a brow as he followed my hand down the buttons of my coat. He stepped toward me, taking my hand away, and giving me his best grin. His other hand settled on my hip. "Besides, the painter won't be here for another few hours, and those plebeian stylists can wait. I've checked your schedule thoroughly and squeezed myself tightly in."

"Reaver, I'm warning you, my patience is wearing thin," I said. "Just because I made a mistake before, doesn't mean I will make it again."

His hand slid from my hip to the small of my back, and he pulled my body close to his. His scent filled my breath—brandy, tobacco, and a hint of tangy cologne. It was not at all unpleasant.

His mouth was so daringly close to mine, and his voice was low, "You know as well as I that it wasn't a mistake. It's been a long time, my dear. Don't you want to give me a proper welcome home?" He looked less smoldering and more boyish and good humored.

His grin was infectious, and I found myself smiling as I slid my arms around him. "Hello."

"That is _almost_ sufficient," He said. He pressed his mouth against mine, and his hands slid down my back, down past my rear. He lifted me to wrap my legs around him, and I was suddenly thankful for the cut of my court attire.

I let my hands drift up towards his face, and I drew from the kiss. I felt a wave of contentment surge through me, and that was slightly unsettling. I hadn't intended for this to go any further than it had the day he returned me to Bowerstone, yet here I was, in his arms, my stomach fluttering like it once had when I was young and with Elliot. I turned my eyes away from him, not wanting my face to betray my feelings.

He moved to let me slip back down to my feet, and he sighed. He looked at me as if he were trying to read me, but he then wore his signature smirk again. "Did you miss me terribly while I was away?"

"I found myself rather distracted by other things," I told him.

"Yes, I suppose so," He said, releasing me. He glanced around the room as he removed his coat. He pulled his watch from his pocket to glance at it. As he untied his cravat, he raised an eyebrow to me, silently asking why I wasn't taking my clothes off.

I unbuttoned my coat, and I pushed it off of my shoulders. I laid it across the empty table by the couch, and I worked at the buckles to my breastplate. The tension between us was nearly tangible as we undressed across the room from each other.

Reaver was the one that relented, coming toward me just in time to take the metal plate from me, and he laid it on the couch. He spun me away from him, so that he could work at unfastening the skirt from my hips. He let his mouth work at the back of my neck pushing my braid out of his way. The skirt fell to the floor, and he lifted me out of it.

His fingers found their way to the laces of my corset. He loosened it for me, and he peeled it off of me, discarding it with my other clothes. He pushed my bloomers off of me, and I was nearly bare before him, the only remaining clothes were my stockings and boots. He removed his vest, and it fell on the floor by my things. He kissed me, his hands roaming freely across my flesh, and he pulled away, almost breathless.

I found his eyes, and I saw that he looked almost thankful. Perhaps he had worried about me during his trip. Perhaps he was just thankful that he had talked me out of my clothes. I leaned in to take the lobe of his ear between my teeth as I tugged at the buttons of his trousers. He kicked his shoes off of his feet quickly. As I pushed his pants down, I moved my kiss to his neck, the cravat gone, and the collar now loose. I reached for him, grasping him firmly by his erection as his hand dug in his pocket. We moved toward the bed, and I sat before him, my mouth so close to his waiting member. He closed his eyes, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, a smile unraveling.

"We are short on time as it is, Majesty. There will be plenty of time for gawking and stroking my..._ego_ later. There are so many things I would love to do to you right now, but..." He deposited the packaged condom on the edge of the bed.

I took him into my mouth, and he stopped talking almost immediately. I now knew the secret to shutting Reaver's ever-talking mouth. Though, I could hardly use such a technique in court. I almost laughed at the thought as I swept my tongue across his thickness.

His fingers combed into my hair, grasping it gently, guiding my unskilled mouth. His other hand found my shoulder, his thumb stroking the sensitive curve of my neck.

I ran the fingers of my free hand up his thigh, and I cupped that glorious backside of his, but I moved back down to tease the inside of his leg. I pulled my mouth off of him to lathe his throbbing, hot erection with my tongue, bringing my eyes to look up to him.

He moved one hand to grasp my jaw, and he leaned down to crush his mouth against mine. We fell against the bed, and I pushed his open shirt off of his body. I went to remove my boots, but he stopped me.

"Leave them," he ordered. "You wouldn't be so cruel as to make me wait much longer, would you?" He was reaching for the package on the bed, as he positioned himself between my legs.

"I could, but would that stop you?"

He just grinned that roguish grin of his as he pushed inside of me, having put the condom on in record time. He withdrew once more, obviously intent on teasing me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, the heels of my boots biting into the backs of his thighs, urging him forward once more, my legs trembling with anticipation.

He took my mouth as he pushed into me once more, and I moaned. His hips started slowly, allowing me to get used to his generous manhood, but his rhythm increased with each stroke. He was delighted to feel that I rocked my hips in response, asking for more. Using one hand to steady himself, his other drifted up to cup one of my waiting breasts.

I pulled from his mouth to catch my breath, but that proved hard to do with the waves of pleasure overtaking me. Each thrust of his hips took my breath away, and I found myself gripping at him, gasping, nearly at my peak. My legs tightened around his waist, but I tried to control my strength. Surely my full, unbridled strength would put a crack in his hipbone. I moved my mouth to nip at his exposed throat, and he groaned, his eyes flickering over to the clock on the mantle.

"You have to go," I said, sitting up and reaching down to remove my boots. "My dressers will be here shortly, and they can't find you here."

"I've laced a corset or two in my day," He said. "When they come, send them away. Say that you've a new maid, or tell them the truth. It matters not to me." He came to sit behind me, pressing his chest against my back as he traced his fingers down the side of my neck.

"I didn't expect you to stay once you were done," I remarked, running my fingers through my hair, unlacing the braid.

"Usually I don't, but I thought it was clear...I have so much more planned for you." He breathed in the perfumed scent of my hair. "As I've said before it's not often I find someone with your...stamina."  
I found that little fact off putting. Why was he so strong? So fast? I pondered the fact that he might have the blood of a hero somewhere in him. Or maybe he'd made a deal with devils for such power. Or both. I didn't think on it for very long because his mouth and the way it dragged across my shoulder blade was quite distracting.

I stood, but he followed me. He pulled his trousers back up onto himself, and he buttoned them quickly.

"Also, I find I can tolerate your presence longer than most," He admitted, lifting his shirt from the ground. He pulled it on.

It was I who did the smirking this time. I stepped over to my wardrobe, and I saw it had been stocked with my clothes for the sitting. I actually adored the dress, but it was large very difficult to move around in without assistance. The layers of fabric for the skirt alone were terribly heavy, but it didn't change that it was still a beautiful dress. I pulled out the proper underthings to go beneath such a dress, and I started to pull them on. The garter belt always gave me trouble, but Reaver soon spotted my distress.

He knelt before me, attaching the belts to my new silk stockings, bending to lay a kiss on top of my silk-covered thigh. His fingers trailed down each leg, smoothing any creases in the stockings. He rose, and I handed him the wretched corset that I would have to be squeezed into.

His nimble fingers laced me inside rather quickly, but we moved toward my bed for my least favorite part. I gripped the bedpost as he started to tighten the laces.

I tried to steady my breathing and think of other things, but his strength was tugging so hard, that I feared he might break the laces. "Be careful," I urged him.

Reaver pulled less tightly on the laces this time, and he laughed at the grunt that escaped me. "My dear, if you keep making those noises, I might have to give you something to groan about."

I closed my mouth, breathing deeply before he tugged again. The process felt nearly complete. I sucked in my breath, and he pulled one last time, then he tied off the string. I was cinched and thoroughly uncomfortable now. I released the bedpost, and I turned to see him He smirked as he stepped forward to fix my breasts in the corset.

He ran his finger down the boning that cinched me so tightly, but before he could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

"Your Majesty?" called Bella. "Are you ready to get dressed?"

"I am already mostly dressed, Bella," I replied, batting Reaver's hand away from me. I moved closer to the door, and I added, "You may go. Thank you."

She sounded very confused as she said, "As you wish, Your Majesty." Her feet moved from the door, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Reaver was buttoning his vest, looking at himself in the full-length mirror. "Do you have any standing dinner plans?"

"No," I replied, moving back toward the wardrobe to grab my robe. I slid it on, and I took a stiff seat on the couch. "Why? Are you planning on testing the limits of your patience with me?"

"Perhaps," He replied.

I figured now would be a good time to discuss what I'd written the unsent letter about. "Reaver, there's something I want to talk to you about."

He looked at me, almost horrified, perhaps thinking I was about to let loose the dreaded "L" word.

"With Walter gone, I have no personal advisor," I said. "Hobson has been standing in for him, but..." I wrinkled my nose.

He breathed what could only be called a sigh of relief. "Are you saying that you want _moi—_Reaver to be your advisor?"

"You're the only logical choice," I told him honestly.

"My, my," He said, tying his cravat in the mirror, his eyes darting over to me. "If I knew that giving The Queen screaming orgasms would result in an appointment to her court, I would have started the day they put the crown on your lovely head."

"I believe you were trying," I told him. "I seem to remember a lot of batting eyelashes and heated grins"

"If I were _really_ trying, darling, your legs would have been in the air far sooner," He quipped, seeming pleased with himself in the mirror. "Though, this does mean we will be spending a great deal more time together, yes?"

I nodded.

"Splendid."

**A/N: Keep the reviews coming, I love to hear what you all think! **


	9. Intentions

-Chapter Eight-

On his fourth official day as my adviser, Reaver was waiting for me at breakfast with my agenda. Every single day he had set aside time for a nice long stretch of 'letter-writing', which had become the title he designated for sneaking somewhere and having his way with me. I couldn't complain. With all of the spontaneous stress relief, I found that I had a sunnier disposition, and I imagined I was more pleasant to be around.

Reaver cleared his throat, and I looked over to him. I had been thinking to myself while looking down to the thinly sliced fruit spread across my plate.

"Thank you so very much for coming back, Your Majesty," He said. "As I was saying, you have an appointment with Lord Raynesworth about his contributions to the restoration of the Old Quarter before lunch. After lunch, you, of course, will be writing letters for a good long while, and after that, Lord Raynesworth will be joining you for dinner." He sounded a tad bit agitated with the last piece of my agenda.

"Anything else?" I asked, sipping at my coffee.

He put his cigarette in his mouth, taking a long draw off of it. "If one wishes, surely some letter-writing can be done before your day officially starts."

I gave him a subtle look.

He smirked. "Okay, we'll save your letters for later."

"I think I would like to take a walk or a ride some time today," I noted. "Preferably outside of the castle walls."

"I'd have to arrange the proper guard," Reaver said, tapping the ashes off the tip of his cigarette neatly into the ashtray next to him.

"You would make me go by myself?" I asked, feigning surprise.

"As much as I would like to ride with you, unless you want to cut into your letter-writing, I cannot. There are other things I must do, Your Majesty," He told me. "I am still a businessman, after all."

"I suppose I will have to find other company, then," I said before taking a bite of my toast.

"I don't see how they could live up to the company you've been keeping lately, but you can surely try," He said, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"Your Majesty," Ewan said, striding up to the table. "I've been informed that Lord Raynesworth has arrived early. He waits in the foyer."

I pushed my plate away, and I rose. "Then I will be there to greet him."

Reaver stood also, stubbing the rest of his cigarette out in the ashtray and gathering up his papers. He popped his hat back on his head.

Ewan led the way toward the foyer, and Reaver followed closely behind me.

As we entered the foyer, I saw Lord Raynesworth. He was close to my height, perhaps a little shorter, and he had crystal blue eyes. His face was handsome, yet cherubic, with rounded cheeks and curly auburn hair. He bowed deeply as he saw me approach.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," he said, his voice a soft tenor. "It is such an honor to finally meet you."

"It is nice to meet you, Lord Raynesworth," I greeted him, offering him my hand.

He took my hand, and he kissed my knuckles tenderly. He released me and he offered me a dashing smile before turning his attention to Reaver. "Mister Reaver, it's so nice to see you again."

"Yes, yes," Reaver said, sounding thoroughly uninterested. "Surely."

The two shook hands briefly.

I sighed, knowing that today would be a very long day.

As we concluded business, Lord Raynesworth suggested a walk around the garden to further discuss things. I agreed, but Reaver declined, claiming that he had to pop over to the factory and that he would be back promptly after lunch. He bade us farewell, and Lord Raynesworth escorted me out into the garden.

We stopped by Walter's statue, and I pressed my palm across the engraving.

"I'm sorry. From what I'd heard, you were very close," Raynesworth said, tilting his head softly out of respect.

"We were," I said. "But he is at peace now."

"When I lost my father, it was always nice to believe that peace was what waited for us in the afterlife," He said.

I nodded in agreement. I glanced over to him as we moved on.

"I think I will rather like having a house in The Old Quarter," He said. "It would bring me closer to court, and I might be able to come once in a while." He chuckled. "Perhaps I'd also call on you."

"It's always nice to have new faces at court," I told him, offering a warm smile. "Especially such nice ones."

He seemed to redden around the edges.

All that time with Reaver must have affected my prowess. I turned away, smirking as I heard him scramble to follow me.

"Your Majesty, may I be forward with you?" he asked.

I turned. "Yes, Lord Raynesworth?" I asked, almost sounding innocent.

"My mother may have mentioned to you that I am not married."'

"I don't believe she did, but what are you trying to say?"

"If it pleases Your Majesty, I would like to spend time with you, and perhaps one day court you."

Court me? I'd have to tread lightly. I wasn't sure if I liked the idea, and I was almost positive that Reaver wouldn't like the idea. I wasn't afraid of Reaver blaming me; I was afraid of what might happen to Lord Raynesworth if Reaver blamed him. I drew in a breath.

"Lord Raynesworth," I said. "I believe I need a little time to deliberate."

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Your Majesty," Reaver said, walking around Raynesworth to join me at my side. "I believe you have a previous appointment to write some urgent letters."

I looked up to him, and his eyes shot back to Raynesworth.

I sighed, and I paused, turning to face Raynesworth. "Lord Raynesworth, I'm afraid I have to cut our visit short."

"Yes," Raynesworth said, glancing to Reaver. "I suppose I really should go meet with the builders. They will be expecting me soon."

"Are you still planning on joining me for dinner?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. I am looking forward to it." He bowed gently, and tipped his head in Reaver's direction as he turned to enter the palace.

"I thought he would never leave," Reaver sighed, rubbing his hands together. "Now, did you want to be naughty while outdoors, or _extremely_ naughty while indoors?"

"Raynesworth expressed interest in courting me," I said, disregarding Reaver's question.

"He what?" Reaver snorted, his eyebrows arching.

"He told me that he wished to get to know me, then, one day, court me," I said folding my arms over my chest. "You're my adviser. Advise me."

He exhaled, and he shook his head. "You should tell him no."

I paused. "Any particular reason?"

"Because he's a baby-faced baboon," He said throwing his hands up. "You don't truly want an idiot like that to be the father of future rulers of Albion, do you?"

"Are you jealous?" I asked, a bubble of laughter escaping me.

"I am not jealous, dear one. I am merely asking if you are serious," He said, but after a beat he added, "Do you think he's more handsome than me?"

I laughed again, turning around to head back indoors.

"So I take that as a no," He said, victory resonating in his voice.

"What if I did?"

"You aren't serious," Reaver said.

"How do you know?"

"Because you're not rushing off to write letters with _him_ right now," he told me, shooting me a white, pearly grin.

* * *

I settled breathlessly on top of Reaver, who was rubbing my hips tenderly. His head tilted back into the cushion of the couch, and he exhaled loudly.

I moved to climb off of him, but his hands locked around me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked silkily. He buried his face in the tender flesh of my neck, kissing and nipping a trail toward my ear. "Running off to marry Lord Raynesworth?"

"Perhaps," I said. "I am available to court, am I not?'

"You are not available to that nitwit," He retorted.

"Who do you suggest I marry, then, Reaver?" I tilted my head and arched a brow at him.

He released me, but I didn't move, now. "You have no need to marry right now. You have many child-bearing years before you."

I expected an answer somewhat like this. I climbed off of him, letting my skirt fall down to cover me. I crossed the room, looking at myself in the mirror.

"Is what I said untrue?" He asked, cleaning himself up before moving to pull his trousers back up onto his waist.

"No, Reaver," I said. "But I may not have many offers."

"There will always be more offers," He said. "You are The Queen."

I crossed my arms over my chest, and I turned from the mirror.

"You are free to make your own decisions, but you will also have to deal with the repercussions of those decisions," He told me, grabbing me gently by the arm.

"Why can't you give me a clear answer, Reaver?"

"Because you are not asking a clear question, dear," He said.

I clenched my jaw, and I exhaled. "Do you intend to court me officially?"

He raised his eyebrows, perhaps somewhat shocked that I was asking. He said nothing for a good moment, and he said, "That wasn't my intention when we started this, Your Majesty."

"And your intention, now?" I asked.

He paused, and he stood straight. "It hasn't changed."

I felt the blow in my gut, but I hadn't been expecting it. I stood straight, and I nodded, trying to appear adult and level-headed about the situation. "I understand," I said, my voice more steady than I had anticipated.

"I'm glad we have an agreement, then," He said, his mouth uncurling from its serious expression. He leaned forward to kiss my cheek before heading toward the door. "I must be getting back to the factory soon. I need to catch up on some real paperwork, I'm afraid."

I offered him a smile, and I nodded, bidding him goodbye.

When the door was closed, I grabbed a random book off of the shelf, and I sat on the couch. I tried to bury myself within the pages of the story, but I just couldn't. I had told myself from the very beginning of my dalliance with Reaver, that I shouldn't take anything seriously. I had thought that his answer would have relieved me. I wouldn't have to watch my friends leave me because of who I took for a husband. I wouldn't have to bear the children of a man who seemed to dislike anyone but himself. I closed the book, tossing it onto the table, and I leaned my head back into the couch.

I had been naïve to think that I wouldn't develop feelings. I wasn't particularly experienced in these types of situations. I simply needed a few days to readjust, and I would be fine. I was sure. I moved to exit the bedroom, and I saw that Ewan was coming back down the hall.

"Your Majesty," He greeted me. "Lord Raynesworth has returned."

"Thank you, Ewan," I said.

* * *

Raynesworth stood beside his chair, waiting for me to take my seat. As I did, he moved to take his. Dinner was set before each of us, and I straightened my shoulders.

"I'd heard that you enjoy reading," Raynesworth said. "I am fairly well-read, also."

"I know it sounds silly, but I still love to read the fables of the old heroes," I admitted with a small shrug and red cheeks.

He laughed slightly, nodding. "I do, too. Your father's tale intrigues me like nothing else."

"My father always said that his adventures were such a small chapter in his long life, yet they were some of the greatest moments," I said, fully understanding what he'd meant now. "I grew up listening to my father's stories, first hand."

"I envy that," Raynesworth said. "I never had the honor of meeting your father, but my father was a very close acquaintance. Before he passed, he could say nothing but the best of things about your father."

I bobbed my head in agreement. "He was a great man and a good king. I hope to be able to make a difference in Albion, as he did." I took a bite of the pork roast, and I savored the flavor.

"Oh, but you already have, My Lady," Raynesworth insisted, setting down his fork. "You saved us from the tyranny of your brother, you defeated The Darkness, and you've been a benevolent and beloved ruler."

I smiled softly. "I hope to do much more for my beloved Albion in the future."

"I know you will," He said, his dashing smile spreading across his lips.

When dinner was through, Lord Raynesworth suggested another walk around the garden, and I agreed. He had offered his arm, and I took it. As we strolled, I noticed that he glanced at me often, then pulled his eyes away bashfully. I simply beamed at him.

"Your Majesty," Raynesworth said, his eyes finding mine. "I'm afraid that returning to my home in Mistpeak will be more difficult that I had anticipated."

I felt my stomach flutter very lightly. "Is there any particular reason, Lord Raynesworth?"

"Please, My Lady, call me William," He insisted.

"William," I corrected myself.

"I had no idea when I arrived that I would find your company so fulfilling," He said, turning to face me fully. "I fear that when I return to Mistpeak some other suitor might come and snatch you up, Your Majesty."

"Do not fret, William," I teased him. "I am quite capable of fighting off anyone who may try to snatch me."

He laughed a little, and he raised his eyebrows. "You are so well-humored, My Lady. That is one of the many things that I am starting to adore about you."

"If you have further business in Bowerstone other than trying to court The Queen..." I said, moving to walk once more. "I believe I can accommodate you. You may stay as long as you need."

He smiled. "I will have to make sure to see to other business, then My Lady."

I returned his smile.

"Perhaps I can oversee the building of my home in The Old Quarter a little more closely," He suggested.

"Yes," I agreed. "Perhaps."

"Are you and Mister Reaver very close?" He asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard, but I offered him a steady smile. "He is my adviser. We spend a lot of time together."

He shook his head a little. "You must have a greater threshold for patience than I. He makes it very difficult for people to like him."

"He isn't all bad," I defended him. "He is just very guarded."

"He can stay guarded," William said. "I don't know that I would enjoy getting to know someone of his character."

I laughed. "I thought the same thing, William."

As I bade William goodnight, Ewan escorted me to my room and hurried off once again, and I opened the door to find that Reaver waited for me. His coat was laid neatly across the back of the couch, and his hat sat on my vanity. He looked completely at leisure with a glass of brandy in one hand, and some paper work in the other. He set everything down on the low table.

"Why hello, my dear," He greeted me, rising to his feet. "I saw that you got the walk you desire, if only through the gardens."

I nodded. "I did."

He stepped toward me, his hands gliding down my back. "Did you find your walk invigorating?" His eyebrows rose and fell quickly.

"It was," I told him, letting my hands fall against his chest.

"I imagine I can find other activities much more invigorating," he said, touching his mouth to the side of my face.

I sighed gently.

"You're a tad wound up, aren't you?" he asked. "This isn't about our little discussion earlier, is it?"

I offered him a smile, shaking my head. "Of course not. Don't be silly." I felt my stomach tighten.

He stroked my face. "Good. I do hate having such awkward exchanges." He kissed the top of my head almost affectionately.

I pressed my face into his chest, and I closed my eyes. I felt so foolish. The way he held me shouldn't be so comforting. My fingers slid down to the small of his back.

"Are you tired, darling?" He asked. "Or are you simply still bored from Lord Raynesworth's company."

"I suppose I am a little tired," I admitted, pulling away to glance up to him.

"Then, I can let you rest," he said, sounding slightly disappointed. "It will be a long, lonely carriage ride back to Millfields."

"Perhaps you should think about purchasing a house in The Old Quarter," I teased him, pushing a stray wave of hair from his face. "It would be much closer to work."

"And closer to you," He added.

"Isn't that work?"

"Work and pleasure all rolled into one, my dear." He grinned. "But I suppose I must be going." He pressed a kiss of farewell against my mouth, his arms tightening around me. He released me walked toward the door. "Goodnight."

I smiled to him. "Goodnight."

And when he left, I covered my face, exhaling heavily. I wasn't sure what I would do, now. Was my time with Reaver all a waste? Should I end it for someone who expressed actual interest in me? I sat down on the couch, and I closed my eyes. If only things could be simple. If only I could feel fine about Reaver's lack of feelings for me. If only he felt as I felt.

I wiped my misty eyes, realizing that what I was feeling wasn't just sadness. It was mingled with the sensation of my broken heart.

**A/N: Thanks for reading another chapter, and I hope to have the next one up very soon! As always, leave me reviews. It gives me more incentive!**


	10. Too Much

-Chapter Nine-

When I arrived at breakfast, I found that William was present, but Reaver hadn't yet arrived. William rose to greet me with a warm smile and a bow, and he sat after I was settled in my seat.

"Good morning," I said as my plate of eggs and bacon was deposited in front of me. "I trust that you are well rested?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I am, My Lady."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said before taking a bite of my bacon.

Suddenly, Reaver breezed into the room, and he looked at ease until his eyes found William at the table. His face shifted to one of contentment to one of confusion. "Good Morning, Your Majesty." He greeted me. "I didn't realize that you would already have company for breakfast."

"Lord Raynesworth will be staying here at the palace to oversee the construction of his home in The Old Quarter," I informed him.

He sat down to my left, as William was in his usual spot. He didn't look very pleased at all. He reached into his breast pocket to retrieve a cigarette, and William's nose wrinkled.

"I don't see how you can ingest those horrid-tasting things," William said, shaking his head. "Excuse me for saying so, but they smell foul."

Reaver promptly deposited the cigarette in his mouth and lit it without a qualm.

"I don't mind them," I said, trying to break some of the tension in he room. I had seen men arm wrestle in my time adventuring. This felt very similar. I slipped Alistair a piece of bacon under the table. Arguing always made him nervous, and I was feeling it as well.

"I suppose if you can tolerate it , Your Majesty, I can, too," William said, his lip curling only slightly.

I took a sip of my water, and I glanced over to Reaver, who looked rather pleased with himself as he blew smoke rings brazenly across the table. I gathered myself, and I sat straight. "Have you looked over my agenda for the day?"

Reaver nodded, and he moved to withdraw the piece of paper from his pocket "This morning, you have free time, which I suggest to be applied toward letter-writing, as you will have no time for it later during your extremely busy afternoon. You have your last sitting with the artist, and you also have a meeting with Sabine about the quality of the roads in Mistpeak. In Industrial, there will be a ribbon-cutting at the newest of my factories, and you are scheduled to make an appearance."

"Her Majesty seems to write an awful lot of letters," William pointed out, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.

"Well, Her Majesty receives a lot of letters, and it would be terribly rude to leave them unanswered, would it not?" Reaver asked.

"I suppose so," William said. "But don't monarchs usually hire secretaries for that sort of thing?"

"If a monarch wished to be impersonal with one's subjects, of course one would," Reaver replied, flicking ashes off of the tip of his cigarette into the ashtray a servant had brought him. "Our Queen is very dedicated to her letter-writing, are you not, My Lady?"

When both men glanced in my direction, I took a generous sip of my hot coffee. It scalded my tongue slightly, but I exhaled. "Writing one's own letters can be very humbling."

William smiled at me with admiration. "I suppose humility is a good quality to have in a ruler. It becomes you."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Reaver drumming his fingers impatiently on the table. He picked up his coffee, apparently deciding to take it black this morning, and he took a long sip of it.

"Thank you, William," I said, grinning, half-flattered and half-amused.

"Well, Your Majesty, I must be heading into town for the day," William said, climbing to his feet, and coming to my seat. He knelt, taking my hand and kissing it, and he offered a stiff nod in Reaver's direction.

Reaver completely ignored him, instead reading over some more paperwork he had magically produced from his pocket.

"Good day, My Lady," said William. "I look forward to seeing you at dinner tonight."

"Yes," I agreed. "Good day."

As soon as William was out of earshot, Reaver snorted in laughter.

"What?" I asked.

"His fawning and flattery are downright sickening," He said, putting his cigarette out.

I pushed my plate away, and I glanced up to him. "He's not as bad as you make him out to be."

He simply shook his head at me, a small grin forming on his mouth. "When you run out of things to talk about, you'll be retracting that statement." He finished the very last of his coffee, and he stood, holding his hand out to me. "Shall we, My Lady?"

* * *

Reaver let his hands trail up the backs of my thighs pulling up my skirts. He had bent me over my desk, which had been cleared before we entered the room, and he was throughly enjoying the view of my naked backside. I looked back to him over my shoulder as he pressed his hips in to my rear, rubbing his stiffening arousal against me.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I pushed myself to stand once more. I turned to face him, and I grasped his face, overtaking his mouth. He pressed me down to sit on the desk, and he pushed my skirts up again, positioning himself between my thighs.

Our bodies pressed together as he wrapped my legs around his waist. The kiss ended, and he smiled with a small, breathy chuckle. He tilted my head to one side to nip at the uncovered area of my neck.

There was a swift knock at the door, and we froze. Reaver retreated, and he quickly pushed me to sit down in my chair.

I quickly pulled my pen and stationary out of the drawer, and Reaver whipped around quickly to grab my discarded bloomers and stuff them in his coat just as Jasper entered the study.

I looked up from my blank page, and I set my pen down. "Good Morning, Jasper." I was extremely ashamed. I wondered if he knew what had been going on in the office before he entered.

"Good Morning, Your Majesty," He said, bowing. "I've come to inform you that Ewan's wife has gone into labor. He requests to be allowed to go home for the next few days."

"Yes, of course," I said with a hasty nod. "Wish him well for me, Jasper."

"Of course," He replied with a nod. "That does bring up the question of your personal security during today's activities. I could have another guard accompany you to your appointments, if you wish."

"I believe The Queen will be safe," Reaver said. "If anything arises, I'm sure I can take care of it."

"Yes, of course, Mister Reaver," Jasper said. "I have no doubt in your abilities to watch The Queen." He offered me a weak smile before bowing. "If you excuse me, Your Majesty, I have other things to tend to."

"Jasper," I said, standing. "Why don't you take a day to enjoy yourself?"

He offered me a smile. "Perhaps one of these days, I will find the need to, but today, I am quite content in my work. Good day, Your Majesty, Mister Reaver." He bowed, and he left, closing the door behind him.

Reaver stepped behind my chair, and his fingers slid down to my shoulders, rubbing gently. "I suppose you'll want to pick this up later, am I correct?" He asked.

I nodded, smiling softly. "That would probably be best. I think I would like a walk with Alistair."

"Of course," He said. "How refreshing it is to be passed over for a dog. It humbles the soul."

I almost laughed. Reaver humbled? I rose, and before I could walk toward the door, he grabbed my hand.

"Later,_ ma petit_," He pulled me to him. "We will continue this." His mouth brushed against my cheek.

I moved from his grip, and I turned to walk away.

Reaver cleared his throat. "Forgetting anything, darling?"

I turned, and I saw that he dangled my underthings casually off of his finger. He came closer, kneeling before me, and helping me maneuver them on, his mouth placing soft caresses up my thigh as he pushed them into place on my hips. My desire reawakened, and I suddenly started to reconsider my choice. He withdrew from beneath my skirt to straighten.

"Off you go," He said, turning me, and giving me a soft pat on the rear. "Don't leave your pup waiting."

* * *

The rest of my day was too full to note on. I sat for a few hours for the painting, and I took a carriage to Bowerstone Industrial, where I cut the ribbon to Reaver's newest factory, but I couldn't for the life of me, remember what it produced. I had even drifted away to sleep in the carriage ride home, waking to find myself resting against Reaver's chest.

I yawned, straightening. "I'm sorry, Reaver. I didn't mean to-"

He took his arm from around me, and he looked out the window. "It's quite alright, my dear. I wasn't talking about anything too important when you snoring interrupted me." Humor lit his face.

"Are we nearly back to the palace?" I asked.

"After a small stop," He said.

"Where would that be?" I questioned him.

"I need to check in on my builders," He said simply.

I raised a brow, curious.

"Were you not the one to suggest that I purchase property in Bowerstone's Old Quarter?" He asked. "I donated my money this morning while you were walking your faithful canine."

"And you're waiting until now to tell me," I said.

"Well, it didn't come up, now did it, sweetheart?" He grinned, moving his hand to my thigh.

The carriage came to a halt, and the footman opened the door for us. Reaver stepped out first, and he held out his hand to assist me down.

I hadn't been to The Old Quarter since renovations had begun. The rubble had been cleared, and everything seemed to be moving along smoothly. I smiled at the progress. Reaver led me toward the largest clear area, and he turned to look at me.

"What do you think?"

"Oh, it's very grand," I said, teasing him lightly.

"It will be," He said.. "I believe that The Old Quarter will rival Millfields in real-estate value, now that you've turned your special attention toward it."

"I merely wanted to please everyone."

"Don't you always?"

I pressed my lips together. I did, indeed, tread lightly quite often, finding that balance was key. I wanted to please the nobles, but I didn't want to lose the support of the common people. I shrugged lightly toward him. "What do you expect me to do?"

"I think you are doing things very well," He said, rubbing the back of his neck gently.

I cocked a brow. "What? You aren't going to suggest I install a coliseum in the middle of The Old Quarter and make lower-class citizens fight for the right to work in your factories?"

He rubbed his chin. "You know, that isn't a terrible idea." His eyes warmed with laughter as a steady smile spread across his face. He took my hand to lead me back toward the carriage, "Come. I am absolutely famished, and you are obviously in need of something to perk you up."

* * *

At dinner, I sat down at my seat at the head of the table, Reaver made sure he was placed in his usual seat and that Sabine was seated in the seat he had occupied at breakfast. He seemed pleased that William was exiled to the other side of Sabine.

"This meal is a lot richer than I am used to, isn't that right Boulder?" Sabine commented, his eyes finding his bodyguard looming in the corner.

Bolder nodded slowly, bending slightly to pat Alistair on the head.

"Well, we are glad to be able to accommodate you," Reaver said.

"You didn't seem to want to accommodate me when you proposed to cut down the forests and mine the mountains of Mistpeak," Sabine said, sticking his pipe in his mouth and lighting it.

"It wasn't anything personal against you or your people," Reaver said almost apologetically. "It was just business. Albion was in need of money, and Mistpeak had the potential to produce said money."

Sabine narrowed his eyes, but he then nodded. "I am glad that we have a Queen that fights for her people, even the poor and the hungry."

"Yes," William piped up. "I agree. "

"Her Majesty is the most magnanimous woman, is she not?" Reaver said. "She is generous and giving in every aspect of her life." His eyes met with mine with a naughty twinkle.

Having finished my meal, I sipped at my wine. "Sabine, are you aware that Lord Raynesworth also lives in the mountains of Mistpeak?"

"No," Sabine said, his eyes looking over to him. "I wasn't."

"My mother and I moved there after my father passed away," He explained. "We needed a fresh start. It is a truly beautiful place."

"Yes, it is," I agreed. "Sabine, I hope that you enjoyed our rich food." I chuckled gently.

"Yes, Your Majesty," He said, blowing a cloud of smoke out.

"Your Majesty," William asked. "Would you like to join me for a walk when your business is through?" His eyes were hopeful.

I smiled. "Of course, William. I enjoy having someone to stroll with after meals." I stood, and everyone else at the table stood as well.

"Your Majesty, it was a pleasure to have dinner with you," Sabine said. "But Boulder and I must return to Mistpeak this night. It is too warm here in Bowerstone for us."

I walked to shake his hand, smiling warmly. "You are welcome, as always. Please return soon. I enjoy your company."

The old man smiled, and he said, "If I were a young man, I would be asking to walk you around the garden, as well, Your Majesty." He curled his mustache around his finger. "Goodbye." He glanced around to Reaver and William giving them each a curt nod.

Boulder stood from giving Alistair's belly a good rub, and he patted him on the head one last time before giving me a large, stiff bow and following Sabine out of the dining room.

"Reaver, would you like to join us in our walk?" William asked, surprising both of us.

Reaver stuck his hands in his pockets, and he shook his head. "I'm afraid I must decline. I have an agenda to plan, but you two go. Have fun enough for me, as well." He shot me a look, implying that I wasn't to have too much fun.

* * *

"Your Majesty," William said, as we strode to the view overlooking Bowerstone Industrial. "I have very much enjoyed these past few days in your company."

"It pleases me to hear you say that, William," I said, putting my hands on the railing. I glanced back, Alistair had been following us at the beginning of our walk, but he seemed to have gone back inside. I shrugged gently, and I returned my attention to the view.

He placed his hand over mine, and he said, "I know that I said I would wait for your answer to my question, but I'm afraid I've grown too attached and rather bold since knowing you."

I looked over to him, my eyebrows raising. My heart raced apprehensively.

He cupped my face with his free hand, and he leaned in to press his lips against mine. The kiss wasn't at all unpleasant. It was tender and sweet, and it reminded me very much of the way Elliot had kissed. I found myself leaning into the kiss, allowing it to go on a few more moments before he drew away.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, if that was too forward," He said, his ears turning red.

"I...will have to have some time..." I said. "...to think about things." I was once again blowing him off, but this time, I really would have to consider my options. "Excuse me, William."

"Yes, My Lady," he said. "Of course."

I withdrew my hand from his, and I offered him a smile before heading back towards the palace. I crossed my arms over my chest, and I sighed. This was too much all at once. I didn't know if I wanted to send William away or tell Reaver that since he had no interest in making an honest woman of me, I would accept William's offer of courtship and eventual marriage. I gulped as I crossed the threshold into the palace, and I saw Reaver striding down the hall in front of me.

"Reaver?" I asked.

He turned, and he paused to let me catch up with him. "May I speak with you privately, Your Majesty?" He asked officially as a few servants passed us by.

"Yes," I agreed, trying to read his face. "Of course."

I followed him up the stairs and toward my study. He was stiff and silent, and I wondered if he had seen William kiss me.

He opened the door for me, allowing me to enter first, and he closed the door behind me, locking it.

"I think it's about time you had Lord Raynesworth leave," Reaver said. It was obvious that he had seen everything, now. He looked slightly unhinged with his jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

"He is my guest here at the castle, and I shall ask him to leave when I please," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Maybe if I stood my ground, Reaver would back off and let me handle this without it coming to blows between the two. "Anything you may have seen, Reaver it was-"

"If you don't ask him to leave, I will," He interrupted as he drew his pistol. "And I won't be very nice about it." His eyes flashed dangerously toward the door.

"You wouldn't dare," I said, my blood boiling. My level-headedness drifted away, and I was overcome by anger. How dare he act this way when he told me he had no intention of courting me, when he'd made it clear that I was just another notch on his bedpost.

"I would," He said. "I can give him the choice of returning to whatever hole in the mud he came from or having a new hole somewhere on his body."

"And if I asked him to leave...What would that mean to you?"

"That I no longer have to vie for your attention," He said. "I don't like sharing my toys, dearie."

"You don't own me, Reaver," I spat my fists tightening.

"Don't I?" he asked, holstering his pistol once more. "I seem to remember a little deal we made."

"That was for a favor, not possession of me," I corrected him. "I can easily give you your gold back, if that is what you require."

He grasped my face with one hand, and he narrowed his eyes. "If it was gold I wanted, I would have asked." His eyes flashed dangerously. "You belong-"

My fist connected with his jaw, and I caught his hand before he could strike me back. I shoved him away. "Don't finish that sentence," I said, my teeth ground together with anger.

He wiped the trickle of blood that flowed down his chin, and he spat at my feet. "I suppose I should be going," he said, his voice just above a growl "Perhaps I'll go fuck something that wasn't mauled by a balverine."

My eyes narrowed, and I returned with, "I'd rather have scars on my skin than a dark and twisted heart in my chest."

He glared at me with fire in his eyes one last time before turning for the door. He slammed it behind him, the hinges crying out in protest of the force he'd used.

I steadied myself against the wall, and I wiped the budding tears from my eyes. I raked my hand over my hair, and I slid down to the ground, the sobbing overtaking me. His words stung me deeper than I would have ever imagined. I drew my knees up to my chest, folding my arms around them. I felt appalled, both with him and myself. He was despicable, as I had known, but what disgusted me the most was that I still wanted him. I covered my face, wiping away my flowing tears.

I heard a gentle knock at the door.

"Your Majesty?" asked Jasper, sounding grave.

I jumped to my feet, and I wiped away my tears, inspecting myself in the mirror. I looked horrid, but it would have to do. I let out a breath, and I opened the door for Jasper.

"Your Majesty," He said bowing. "I'm terribly sorry for disturbing you, but something has happened."

My heart stopped. "What, Jasper?" I questioned. What else could possibly happen to make this evening any more terrible?

He took my hands into his, and he pressed his lips together in a hard line. "It's about Alistair, I'm afraid."

My lips parted, but I couldn't speak.

"He..." he exhaled softly. "I found him laying in front of your door...I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

I felt my knees crumble beneath me, and all of the air left my body. I couldn't breathe. It was just too much.

Jasper must have followed me down to the ground because he was wrapping his arms around me. "He was very old, Your Majesty. It looked like a peaceful passing."

I nodded, though I wasn't comforted by the facts that Jasper presented.

I heard another pair of feet approaching.

"Your Majesty?" asked William's voice as he entered the room. "Are you alright? What has happened?"

Both Jasper and William helped me to my feet, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Alistair..." I gulped. "He passed away."

William's eyes widened, and his eyebrows furrowed with sympathy. "Oh, My Lady, I am so sorry." He stepped forward, grabbing my hands tenderly. "Is there anything you require?"

I shook my head, my knees trembling beneath me once more.

William put an arm around me, steadying my stance. "Come let's get you sitting down." He pulled me toward the sofa in the corner, and he sat me down, taking a seat beside me. He pushed my hair out of my face, and he rose again to cross the room toward the bottle of whiskey and glasses on the far table.

"Your Majesty, if you wanted to say goodbye, now would be the time," Jasper said sadly.

I didn't think I could. I shook my head. "No...No I can't Jasper. I'm sorry." He was my friend for ten years, and now he was gone. I couldn't look at him that way. It would be too painful.

"I understand, Your Majesty," He said with a nod. "I will see to it that he is taken care of as a companion of his caliber should be."

I nodded. "Thank you."

Jasper walked toward me, hugging me tightly once more. "I shall return later when it is done."

Once again, I bobbed my head softly.

He exited the room, closing the door.

William turned. "Do you want a drink, My Lady?"

I shook my head.

He came to sit beside me on the sofa. "I wish there were something I could do to make your pain go away."

I couldn't hold it back anymore. My sobs bubbled out of me, and I covered my face, trying to muffle them somewhat.

I felt William's arms wrap around me. He smelled like clean linen and grass. I sunk into his chest, accepting his comfort. His chin came to rest gently on the top of my head. "I'm here," He said tenderly, stroking my hair.

I found myself slightly comforted in his arms. "Please don't leave." I couldn't bear being alone. The last time that my emotions had been so incredibly torn, I was stuck in the darkness in the desert. I didn't want to relive that deep, empty feeling.

"I wouldn't dream of it," He replied.

**A/N: So, I am really on a writing roll right now. I plan on posting as many chapters as I can get out. Maybe it's all the coffee... But anyway, thank you for reading and stay tuned! It's about to get juicy.**


	11. Mountains of Mistpeak

-Chapter Ten-

I couldn't bring myself to sleep, and William had volunteered to stay to keep me company once Jasper had retired. We played cards, discussed books, and more than once, William took my hand in his, caressing my palm gently with his thumb, expressing how glad he was to be spending this time with me.

I was still very upset about Alistair, and his loss also reopened the wound of the loss of Walter. I'd lost two of my closest friends within weeks of each other. It was nearly staggering on top of the fact that I was still raw over the fight with Reaver. I was exhausted mentally, but I knew that sleep would only bring dreams, and I didn't want to take the chance that they would be bad ones.

I found myself pondering what Reaver was doing. He had threatened seeking the company of another, or more. I had known what kind of man he was when I'd given in to him. I was as much to blame for how things ended. I wondered if he would come to perform his duties the next day or would he resign?

I sighed, looking down to my hand in the game. It wasn't very good. I folded, and I rubbed my temples.

"Are you alright?" William questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Just lost in thought," I explained with a nod.

"Well, that's what I'm here for, is it not?" He said. "How can I take your mind off things?"

Pump me full of liquor and let me sleep for a week?

I shook my head, "Conversation, perhaps."

He nodded, glancing off to the side, as if he were thinking. His crystal eyes found mine again, and he looked rather inquisitive.

"My Lady," William said, shuffling the cards once more. "What has your father told you of The Hero of Skill?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Not very much, William. Why?"

"There is not very much written about him," He said. "I'd heard a story or two about him, though, and I was wondering if you knew any more."

"My father didn't like to speak of him," I said. "He said that I would be better off never hearing of his exploits."

"Yes, from what I've found, he's done some very terrible things," he said, dealing our hands.

"What have you heard, William?" I asked, picking up my hand.

"That he steals people's youth," William said, his voice growing solemn, suddenly. "That he takes their youth and beauty to perpetuate his own. He was immortal, apparently."

"Immortal?" I asked, almost laughing.

"Yes, that's what I've heard," he continued. "Is that so very hard to believe with all of the incredible things you've seen and done?"

I paused, thinking about Theresa, the seer who had guided both my father and I through our journeys as heroes, and I shook my head. "No, I suppose it isn't."

"It makes me wonder..." William started, but then he shook his head, as if the thought weren't worth thinking.

"Yes?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Go on."

"It makes me wonder what such a man would do with all of his time," William said.

He had a point. What would a person with so many years do? Would he grow tired of people and seclude himself? Would he continue living normally. The thought boggled me. I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

William sighed, stretching. He looked up to the mantle, and he almost laughed. "My Queen, it is nearly time for the sun to rise. Are you sure you want no sleep?"

I nodded. "I'm sure, William."

"Perhaps we could have something to eat, and maybe you'll grow tired after," He suggested.

"Perhaps," I said, folding my hand once more.

There was an urgent knocking at the door, and I rose. I was tired of hearing knocking at the door. If someone else gave me another piece of bad news, I was going to pull my hair out. Then I'd be scarred and bald, and perhaps my romantic situation might simplify. I opened the door.

A servant in pajamas held an envelope. "An urgent letter for Lord Raynesworth from Mistpeak."

William stood to cross the room, and he took the envelope from the servant. He broke the seal, and he read it immediately. His face shifted to one of worry, and he exhaled softly.

"What?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"It's my mother," He said, rereading the words. "She's fallen ill."

My heart softened, and I tilted my head. "Is it very serious?"

"It seems so," He said, still shocked. "I need to return to Mistpeak immediately."

"Yes," I said. "I understand."

"Your Majesty...I...I would prefer not to go alone, would you accompany me?" He asked, his eyes wide and pleading.

The man had just sat up all night with me after my dog passed. How could I tell him anything but yes? I nodded. "Yes. I will rouse some guards and arrange for a carriage."

He folded the letter and put it in his pocket, taking my hands in his. "Thank you so much, Your Majesty. This means a lot to me."

"Of course, William, " I said, offering him a fraction of a smile. "I would never dream of letting a friend go through this alone."

He took me into his arms, giving me a tight hug. "Thank you," He repeated.

I returned the hug. It was actually rather comforting to be in a man's arms. I slid my arms around him, and I pressed my face into his chest. I closed my eyes, and my heart betrayed me. I thought of Reaver, and it caused a ripple of an ache through my heart. I drew away from William, offering a soft smile.

"I will return, William," I said, and I moved back to leave the room to make arrangements.

* * *

Within the hour, a carriage with a full complement of guards was ready to accompany us as quickly to Mistpeak as was possible. I felt more refreshed, having changed into a different set of clothes. I was dressed for comfort rather than dinner with dignitaries. The flexible waist cinch was a lot easier to bear for long periods of sitting.

William looked apprehensive, but I understood. I remembered what it was like to fear that your only remaining parent was close to death. I reached across the carriage to put my hand on his knee. He turned his eyes up to me and he put his hand on top of mine.

"You have a truly generous heart, Your Majesty," He sighed. "You have done much for me these past few days."

I shook my head. "It's no problem, William."

"You seem to see the best in everyone," He told me. "You find the good in a person and bring it out. You've certainly brought out the good in me."

"Is there bad in there somewhere?" I joked.

"There's bad in everyone, My Lady," He came back, seriously. "Sometimes that's just as important to find as the good, though."

I agreed heartily with the last sentence.

We rode in quiet for a long time before William decided to pull out a book and read.

I leaned back into my seat, and I let my mind wander. The past few days had been extremely tumultuous. I crossed my arms over my chest, and I stared out the window, watching the passing scenery as the sun rose behind it. I wished I could disappear for a few days. I needed the time to myself. I sighed, and I glanced to see that William had stowed his book in favor for looking at me.

I felt self conscious, and I straightened slightly.

"You were deep in thought," He said, a small smile drifting across his mouth.

"Quite the opposite, actually," I admitted sheepishly. "I was trying empty my mind."

"I understand," He said. "I have had those moments when I needed quiet. I am sorry to have burdened you with this."

"It is no burden, William," I assured him. "This is what friends do for one another."

"I hope to one day be more than that, Your Majesty," He said.

My heart thrummed unpleasantly in my chest, and I gave him a smile. "Perhaps." I merely wanted to pacify him at the moment. I wasn't going to deny him hope as his mother may lay dying.

"I will leave you be, Your Majesty, you look like you need rest," He said.

"Thank you, William."

I was jolted awake by someone grabbing me, and I opened my eyes to see that it was William. He pressed his finger to my mouth, and he motioned outside. I heard the sound of fighting, and suddenly the carriage's door opened.

"Your Majesty! You must flee!" The guard shouted, then he turned to fight off what sounded like bandits.

I reached under the seat of the carriage, and I retrieved my sword. "William, you must stay with me," I grabbed his hand, and I tugged him from the carriage when I saw that there was a clear path to a thickly-wooded area.

We made a mad dash for the woods, and I glanced around. My guard had been annihilated. Their bodies were strewn about the road, and the bandits descended on the carriage, hoping to strip it of its valuables. There were a lot of bandits, more than a dozen. I hoped that they weren't very skilled fighters because the odds tilted greatly in their direction.

"Look!" one of the bandits shouted, probably spotting William and myself.

I pushed William back into the woods, and I held my sword up, gathering my Will.

"It's The Queen!"

Suddenly, the bandits looked terrified, and I was glad. They should be. They had picked the wrong day to attack my men.  
"Kill the man!" shouted a hulk of a men with the finest weapons, undoubtedly the leader. "Take The Queen alive!"

A funnel of fire spouted from my hand, enveloping the men that charged me. Drawing my pistol, I didn't wait to see what type of damage the flame had done. I started aiming and dispatching men as fast as I could.

A bandit approached, crossing my sword with his, and I sent a boot into his gut. The other men were standing, having shaken off the effect of the flame. I backed off a little more. There were too many for me to fight alone. "William, run!" I called back.

I felt his hand grab mine,and he dragged me behind him as he wove between the trees, trying to lose the bandits in the thick woods. I stowed my sword, and I let my feet catch up with us. I was a little more oriented now, and I took off ahead of William.

"Come on," I hissed. "If we keep heading east, we will hit Mistpeak."

He nodded breathlessly, and he grabbed my hand once more.

We ran for about a mile before I turned and saw that no one was coming after us. I slowed my pace, and I came to a stop.

William found a fallen tree to sit on, and he fanned himself. "You saved my life."

"I wish I could have saved my men," I sighed sadly, pulling my hair from its ponytail. I gathered it in my hands, and I started to weave it into a tight braid. If I was going to be walking or running, I couldn't have my hair catching on everything.

"You did all that you could, My Lady," he said. "You were not well-rested, and you had only just woken up."

I shook my head, still incredibly saddened by the needless death. I would have surrendered any wealth that I may have had within the carriage to save those men's lives. I fastened the braid at the end, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Do you think we will make it to Mistpeak soon?" He asked.

I glanced around. "I have been in these woods many times, but everything looks the same. We will keep moving east."

"How do you know that's east?" He asked.

"Because the sun just rose, and it is behind us," I told him

He looked embarrassed for a moment. "Yes, I should have realized that."

"William, I promise that I will see you safely to your mother's side," I assured him, putting a hand comfortingly on his arm.

He nodded. "I'm fine now. We can go."

* * *

The Mountains of Mistpeak greeted us nearly an hour later. I was relieved to see them, and William led the way from there.

"We are not far now," he said, gripping my hand tightly. He looked back to me with a nod.

"Good," I said. "When we arrive, I must send a letter to the palace to inform the guard of the bandits attacking us."

"Yes, of course," he said. "I will arrange everything for you when we arrive."

I needed rest. I was now thoroughly exhausted. Hitting the snow had slowed me down majorly. My eyelids sagged, and my limbs felt like cooked noodles. I followed William along, and after a while, we came to a gathering of small cabins.

"These are where the servants live," He told me. "The house is just up that hill."  
He pointed to a large estate set on top of the steep hill before us.

Relief washed over me. I could sit and rest soon, perhaps sleep. I took my hand back from William to cross my arms over my chest. It was cold in the mountains, and my coat had been left in the carriage.

William turned, and he paused to remove his coat. He draped it over my shoulders, and he placed his hand on the small of my back. "Come, Your Majesty. When we get you inside, I will see to it that you will have a place to rest."

We climbed the hill, and the gates opened for us as we were escorted to the front door by a few of William's servants.

"Come," William urged me, opening the door. "It is warmer inside, I'd wager."

We entered the house, and it was warm. I shivered from the transition. The coat was taken off of my shoulders.

A butler approached, and William said, "Show The Queen to the living area and prepare a room for her. She will be requiring rest."

The butler nodded, and he led me away as William hurried up the stairs, his eyes turning back to find mine. I gave him a sympathetic look, and I followed the butler into a large living area. I was shown to a sofa, and the butler moved to fix me a cup of tea. He handed it to me in silence and bowed once before leaving me alone.

I rubbed my eyes. A headache was forming behind them. I sighed, sipping at my tea. It was hot, but I finished it rather quickly. There had been far too much to handle since I'd last slept. Maybe a good rest would refresh me. I wouldn't feel completely better about all that had happened, but it was sure to help, right?

I let my eyes drift around the study. The pictures that hung on the walls were of who I could assume were William's family. There was a large portrait over the fireplace. I looked up to it. There stood a man, a woman, and a young boy. I stood, and I walked to inspect it further.

The woman was beautiful with raven-colored hair and hazel eyes. Lady Raynesworth had been very beautiful when she was younger, and her husband was very handsome as well. He had soft blond hair and emerald eyes, and his beard was very becoming of him. I looked to the young boy in the portrait, and I furrowed my brow.

Something wasn't right about him. He had thick, black hair like Lady Raynesworth, and he had his father's green eyes. Scrutinizing the details, I couldn't find any similarities between William and this boy in the picture. I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was reading too far into things. Maybe William had an older brother, and this was a picture painted before he was born. I walked around the room, glancing to the other portraits.

I found no picture of anyone that looked remotely like William. I was starting to get an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. I exhaled slowly, and I turned to sit down, and I closed my eyes.

* * *

I was woken up by a rude shove to the back of my head, and I opened my eyes to find that I had a blade to my throat. I felt strange—weak and dizzy. I was in an unfamiliar place. I glanced around. We were outdoors, as the chilling wind at my back suggested, but my eyes were too blurry to focus on any details.

"Where am I?" My voice was a weak rasp. I definitely didn't feel right. I glanced around until I saw a man's figure materialize before me.

"You are still in Mistpeak, My Lady," said a familiar voice.

"I don't...I don't understand." I whispered.

"You very soon will."

**A/N: Please read and review, I love to hear your thoughts! More to come later, I promise! **


	12. One Angry Hero

**A/N: So I wrote this chapter after having a few whiskey-laced drinks and striding around my apartment feeling self-important. I hope you enjoy!**

-Chapter Eleven-

Reaver exhaled, his heart pounding. He opened his eyes to see that the woman curled against him was closing her eyes sleepily. He pushed the dozing woman off of him, and his lip curled in anger. No one had given her permission to sleep there. "Get out of here, you disgusting little trollop." He glanced down to the thin, pretty man who was wiping Reaver's seed from the corner of his mouth. "You, too. Both of you, leave me."

Both hurriedly gathered their clothes and exited the playroom, and Reaver was left alone. He climbed from the bed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. His little plan hadn't worked at all. It had, in fact, backfired. He felt neither relieved nor release. He only felt empty. He paced the length of the room, avoiding a pile of unclaimed clothes. He walked over to the wash basin, and he took the sponge, running it across his chest and then further down. The water was cool and refreshing, and he felt slightly better now that he wasn't coated in a layer of sweat.

He let his eyes wander back over to the bed, and he sighed. What he'd just done felt less like a conquest and more like debasement. He turned to knock the basin off of its stand, and it shattered on the ground, water spreading across the floor. He needed to shoot something soon, but he also needed to sleep. His little deal kept the wrinkles away, but it did nothing for puffy eyes. He rubbed his face, exhaling softly.

He took the stairs to exit into his bedroom, and he pulled a night shirt over his head. He climbed into his bed, and he stared up to the canopy. He had taken to sleeping in his playroom, lately. When he lay in this bed, he could only think of the only woman he'd ever let into it.

Her dark angry eyes pierced his thoughts, and he rubbed his bruised chin. He was still so angry with her. Didn't she understand that he didn't want anyone else to have her? Didn't he provide everything she needed? What use was marriage when she had him?

He closed his eyes, exhausted. He hoped that he would soon be dozing, hoping to sleep dreamlessly, but that was a blessing that usually wasn't bestowed upon him.

* * *

He woke breathlessly, his eyes opening, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. Catching his breath, he closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. Things he'd never wished to relive had crept into his dreams. On the nights he'd spent with The Queen, he never had those dreams. She made it all go away. He climbed out of bed, all of his muscles tense. He glanced to the rising sun in the window, and he went to sit at his desk.

He couldn't face her. Not after the way he'd acted. She probably had thrown herself at that idiot, William, by now. That man wasn't good enough to stand at a Queen's side, especially not hers. He had done his research on the man, there was nothing notable until a few years ago. His mother had kept him out of Logan's draft by claiming that he had some sort of condition that would make it impossible for him to be a good soldier. He couldn't recall what excuse she had produced.

He picked up his pen, and he scrawled across the fresh piece of paper.

_My Queen, _

Sighing, he paused for a moment, raking his hand through his unruly hair. He had to hold his hand from writing the letter desperately trying to escape his pen. He instead, chose cowardice.

_I regret to report that I have fallen ill. I will not be able to make it to Bowerstone for a few days. I apologize for any inconvenience this might cause you._

_Yours, _

_Reaver_

He read the signature on the paper, and he hastily crumpled the letter, letting it fall to the floor. He instead wrote another letter of the same words, except for one. The word "yours" had been replaced with "My Apologies." He couldn't let her know that he was hers, and he was about to write it blatantly in the letter. He folded the new draft, and sealed it quickly. He stood to pull his robe on and slip his slippers on. He grabbed the letter, and he went off in search of Arthur.

He walked by Arthur's room and found that the door had been left cracked. He pushed it open, and he saw that he was not within. His bed was unmade, but everything else seemed to be in order. He saw something shimmer in the corner of his eye, and he saw that it came from between the mattresses.

He strode over and he pushed the top mattress off of the bed with ease. Beneath had been a stash of wealth. Gold, heirlooms, gems, jewelry. It was all there.

Heat rising to his face, Reaver stomped through the house, heading toward his room. "Arthur!"

As he entered, he went immediately to the drawer where he stored his Dragonstomper every night. He pulled it open, and he cursed when he saw it was empty. That boy was going to pay. He hurried back to Arthur's room to check what else had been stolen.

He sifted through the artifacts and treasures until he found one piece that was missing something. He held the empty sheath to a finely crafted dagger, and his heart sank as his eyes widened. He now knew that whatever else had been stolen was just a distraction. Arthur was after him, and he was going to strike at The Queen to get him.

Reaver dressed as quickly as possible, dressed to ride. He pulled his coat on, followed by a rifle holster, and he hurried back down to the playroom. He pulled a painting off of its nail in order to access the large safe behind. He quickly twisted the combination and unlocked it. He opened the heavy door, revealing his best and most expensive guns. He grabbed a shining rifle, sliding it carefully into the holster, and he grabbed one of the four remaining Dragonstompers, shoving it down into his hip holster, covering it with his jacket.

After locking up and replacing the picture, he tore up the stairs, closing the entrance to his playroom. He didn't have much time. He wasn't sure how far ahead of him Arthur was, and with that dagger in his possession, he had an exceptional advantage.

"There had better be a horse waiting for me when I leave this house!" He announced loudly to no one in particular, knowing his staff well. If he requested something, it was provided nearly immediately. He hurried down the stairs, putting his gloves on.

He saw that a young boy burst through the front door.

"Your...horse," He panted. "Is ready..."

As Reaver crossed to the door, he saw that the horse was saddled and ready. He would have impressed if he weren't otherwise distracted. He climbed onto the horse, and he instructed the boy, "Not one person is permitted to leave or enter this estate, am I clear, boy?"

The boy looked scared half-to-death, but he nodded quickly, and he rushed back inside to spread word of Reaver's order.

Reaver took off through the gates, and the guard posted closed and locked it behind him, having heard what Reaver had told the boy. He rode as swiftly as he could without tiring out his horse, he didn't know how long a journey he would be riding today.

* * *

Riding into Bowerstone castle with a rifle strapped to one's back would have been difficult for anyone besides the Queen's adviser. He was let in rather quickly, and someone tended to his horse as he hurried up the front steps.

"Mister Reaver," Said Jasper, coming to greet him as he crossed the threshold. He looked at the rifle on Reaver's back with confused caution. "I didn't know that you were coming in today. Queen Lilyana is not here, at present."

"Where is she?" Reaver asked impatiently. "She may be in danger."

"Danger? She's gone with Lord Raynesworth to his estate. His mother has fallen ill, and The Queen did not wish for him to go alone," Jasper explained. He looked very worried now.

"They are headed for Mistpeak?" Reaver questioned.

Jasper nodded. "Yes. They left more than an hour ago."

"Did she have a full guard?"

"Yes," Jasper replied. "Mister Reaver, what kind of danger is she in?"

Reaver said nothing, gulping softly and exhaling.

Jasper's eyes widened with realization. "Is it wise to go alone?"

"I am more than capable of handling myself," Reaver assured him, turning to leave.

* * *

He rode as swiftly as his horse could take him through Silverpine. Luckily, he hadn't come across anything to hinder his journey. How could he have been so foolish to leave that particular weapon vulnerable to theft? He had removed it from his room to protect The Queen. When he had it crafted, he was angry with Sparrow. He only cared about getting The Dark Seal back. When he'd instructed the smith to add the augmentations, he made it strong enough to kill The Hero with a well-placed strike.

He saw a horse leap out from a small path in the woods, and he came skidding to a halt. The rider glanced back to him, and stopped his horse.

"Reaver?" Logan asked. "What are you doing?"

"I could ask the same of you, but I honestly have no time," Reaver said, taking off again.

Logan kept pace with him. "Lilyana is in danger."

"I know." He said in reply.

"Not that I don't appreciate the concern for my sister's life," Logan said, "But why are you rushing off to rescue her."

"She is in danger because I didn't keep a tight enough leash on someone who's betrayed me once already," He said.

"So this is your fault?"

"Yes."

The two rode in silence for a few moments.

"How did word get to you?" Reaver asked, curiously.

"Jasper came to me," Logan replied.

Reaver nodded, knowing now that Jasper had access to Sparrow's sanctuary. He must have used the map to rush to Silverpine to warn Logan.

"Don't think I haven't heard the rumors, Reaver," Logan said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

Reaver looked over to Logan. "Do you really think this is an appropriate time?"

"We've a long ride to Mistpeak, and I believe I need to know the details that put my sister in danger," Logan snarled.

The pair rode in quiet for a few moments.

"Did you sleep with her?" Logan asked, his fists closed tightly around the reins. His face was tinged red.

"Yes," He admitted.

Logan drew his pistol, and just as quickly, Reaver's was in his hand, too. They rode along like that, a tense silence growing between them, their eyes locked intensely. Logan conceded, stowing his pistol, and Reaver did the same.

"I told you, the first night that you met her, that if you touched her, I would kill you," Logan recalled, his voice trembling with anger.

"And if you remember, I welcomed you to try."

More quiet.

"This discussion is not over." Logan's eyes narrowed as they picked up speed once more.

When they crossed onto the main road to Mistpeak, they found the carriage abandoned, and dead guards and a few bandits littering the path. They both climbed hastily down from their horses.

Logan rushed to the carriage, and he looked relieved and frustrated all at once. "She's not here.."

"I don't see many bandit corpses," Reaver said. "So we can assume that either they took her, or she ran off. Raynesworth isn't here either, so I'd wager that they escaped."

"Into the forest," Logan said, his finger pointing out a slightly worn path into the woods.

"You follow their path in the woods, and I will ride on to Mistpeak," Reaver said.

Logan nodded.

Reaver moved to climb back onto his horse, and he glanced back to Logan.

"If anything happens to her..."

Reaver nodded. "Yes, I understand."

"Take my horse," Logan said. "Yours is tired."

Reaver agreed, and he climbed onto the great, white beast that had carried Logan.

The two parted ways, Reaver riding down the road and Logan walking into the woods.

As he rode, Reaver was relieved. Logan had taken the news of his and The Queen's tryst rather well. He'd expected at least a shot or two to be fired. He followed the signs toward The Raynesworth Estate.

He only hoped that he wasn't too late.

**A/N: So, I threw a chapter in from Reaver's point of view. Plus bonus Logan! I hope you liked it. Please review!**


	13. Bastard

-Chapter Twelve-

The figure drew closer, and my vision cleared.

"William?" I asked, struggling against the ropes binding me. I was kneeling on the cold marble of what was probably the stairs to the back entrance. I wasn't sure. I couldn't see very well. Pure panic coursed through my veins. What was the meaning of this? I couldn't fathom what I had done to the Raynesworths.

He crouched before me, and he grabbed the blade from whoever was holding it at my throat. It was an intricately crafted dagger, the blade decorated with intricate carvings. He brought it closer to me, and I felt my body sag. Something had been done to it. Some sort of augmentation had been placed. I had no strength or concentration. He drove the blade into my leg slowly, and I cried out. The pain was unlike anything. My whole body was on fire. I held back my cries, but tears spilled from my eyes.

"There," William said. "That will keep you docile."

"Wh-why are you doing this?" I asked, fighting every moment to get a word out.

The person standing behind me came around into my view. It was Reaver's man Arthur.

"Morning, Your Majesty," He said, stepping beside William and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What is this about?" I breathed weakly.

"The three of us take issue with some of your choices in company," William said.

Lady Raynesworth joined the pair, looking perfectly healthy. This had all been an intricate trap to get me away from Bowerstone, but for what reason, I was not sure. "You consort with dangerous men, Your Majesty. Men who like to hurt people...like my poor boy."

"William isn't your son, is he?" I asked. "The boy in the painting over the mantle...he wasn't William."

"His name _was_ William, actually," She said, her eyes growing sad. "My husband was a good man, but he spent a lot of time in the taverns. So much so that he barely stayed home. And when our son died of fever, he wasn't there. He didn't come home for three days. He mistook a poor hungry boy I'd taken pity on for his own son, and I never told him any different. I couldn't break his heart and drive him to drink himself to death."

She put her arm around the impostor William Raynesworth. "I grew to love this boy as my own, and when he told me the tragedy of his life, how could I not feel for him? How could I not want to strike back at those who hurt him?"

Everything was getting blurry, and my head fell forward.

"She's losing consciousness," Arthur said.

The knife was pulled from my leg, and a wave of pain rippled through me. I gritted my teeth, and I felt the knife at my throat once more, but it was Lady Raynesworth who held it against me.

"You and Reaver are very close," William noted, pacing back and forth before me. "In fact, I believe he's let you closer than he's let anyone in a very long time. I daresay you're the one person in Albion that he cares about, besides himself, of course."

"Don't be too certain on that one," I said in return, an ironic laugh escaping me.

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Your Majesty," Arthur said. "He never put as much effort into pursuing someone as he put into you."

"Well, my point is, one can assume that you've grown to know him these past months, correct?" He asked.

I believed I knew him as well as anyone did. He kept a great deal secret, of course, but I nodded regardless, blinking a few times to clear my vision.

"I can't believe you haven't put all the pieces together yourself. You're a lot thicker than I thought," He said, "Didn't you ever wonder how such a young man amassed such a fortune?"  
My vision blurred around the edges and his voice slowed as Lady Raynesworth let the blade touch my throat.

"Think back to another man that all of Albion knows of. He was accurate with a gun and ruthless to a fault," William said, kneeling before me, grasping me by the chin. "Someone who your father tried to erase from the history books."

My eyes widened. Reaver was The Hero of Skill from so long ago? "That can't be."

"Reaver is a very old man, my lady," Arthur said.

"He talks people out of their youth and beauty," William interjected. "He preys upon the downtrodden and desperate, and he makes them an offer that they can't turn down. He gives them gold enough to make a difference in their lives, and then he takes their lives away. Arthur here was supposed to be next in line, but we're working to stop that, aren't we?"

"You see," William said. "Arthur here was drawn in, like so many others before him."

"He offered me gold, women, men, anything that I wanted, so long as I gave him something in return, and at the time, it seemed like a good bargain," Arthur explained. "What do I need youth for, when I had gold? Then, he brought back his latest victim...those empty eyes, the strength and vigor sucked right out of them...I tried to run, but he caught me, and he kept me in his house, and he made me serve him."

"He wanted me to know that I would fulfill my contract, and that he would get my youth," he finished.

I gulped, my head still dizzy. I was trying to absorb all of the information. Reaver was The Hero of Skill and he sucked people's youth from them. I felt nauseous, but I couldn't tell if it was the weight of the revelation or the dagger's influence.

"The night of the ball, I found Arthur," Lady Raynesworth chipped in. "He seemed disgruntled, so I sought information from him. He surrendered it quickly after I promised to help him bring the bastard down. Reaver would pay for his crimes against my darling."

She kept mentioning whatever Reaver had done to William, and I finally asked, "What did he do to William, then? You keep hinting at it, but are you actually going to tell me?"

"Adjust your tone," Lady Raynesworth threatened, the blade meeting my flesh.

"Do not cut her," William ordered. "We shouldn't kill her with that." He opened his coat, and he produced a Dragonstomper .48.

"Tell me what he did," I demanded. "Tell me what I'm to die for."

William stashed the Dragonstomper away, and he crouched in front of me once more.

"My mum was beautiful. She could have had any man in Albion, but she had to fall in love with that _bastard_," He said, narrowing his eyes. "She would do anything he asked her to do, and she became a regular whore of his. He visited her when he came to town, and when he was done with her, he left. Eventually, she became pregnant. She hid me from him, not wanting him to know she'd had his child, thinking he wouldn't look at her as he once had. One day, he came to her with a trinket, and he told her that he needed her to go with him."

He shook his head. "She said yes, of course, anything for him, and when she came home...she was...She was a husk of herself. She had no eyes anymore, they were just bright white empty spaces..." He shuddered, tears building in his eyes. "And when Reaver came to give her the sack of gold she'd earned giving him her youth and beauty...I came out of hiding to look at the man who had swindled my mother...his eyes...they were the same color as hers had been."

I blinked slowly. "Reaver...he is your father?"

I could see barely anything of Reaver in this man. The only thing that looked like it could have come from Reaver was his mouth. He copied Reaver's smirk almost perfectly, allowing me to inspect him.

"My mother was foolish, but she didn't deserve the death that she was given," William said. "I had to take care of her while she died of old age. I was only seven, and I had to watch my twenty-six year old mother die of old age." His eyes were filled with tears of pure rage. "She hung on for a few years after the bargain had been struck, but she wasn't as she was. She never could be again."

Lady Raynesworth took William into her arms, shushing him and stroking his hair. "My poor darling."

"So now you know why," William said, pulling gently away from Lady Raynesworth's embrace. "He has to suffer as I've suffered. He needs to have his world taken away from him before he dies."

"Why not attack his factories?" I asked. "His wealth? Why me?"

"Because he loves you," Arthur said. "Or at least cares about you enough for our little plan to work."

"When The Queen of Albion is killed, who else would they suspect than her lover, jealous at the prospect of her impending courtship with another man?" Lady Raynesworth asked.

"We have his gun, and his dagger," Arthur said. "If we kill you with either, it incriminates him, don't you think?"

"The dagger...is _his_?"

"Yes," Arthur said with a nod. "He told me once when he was drunk that he'd had it made for insurance against your father. That it would turn the powers of a Will-user against them, attacking their own body."

That explained the pain seething through me at the blade's mere presence. "Then kill me, already. You're not doing any good by talking to me."

William laughed, and he shook his head. "Not yet, My Queen. We're waiting for Reaver to show up. It's not as fun unless we kill you right in front of him."

"Who's to say he's coming?" I asked, shaking my head, gulping deeply. "He could be at home, smoking a cigarette and enjoying a brandy. We didn't exactly leave our last meeting on good terms."

"I know Reaver," Arthur said. "The very fact that we got to you is an insult to his ability. He won't let that go very easily."

"You made it so very easy, though, My Queen," William added with a small smirk. "All I had to do was wait and wedge myself into your life. Though, toward the end, I had to resort to more desperate measures." He picked at his nails. "I do, actually, feel bad about Alistair. He was a good dog, so I let him die peacefully in his sleep."

I jumped to my feet, and charged him, a roar tearing from my throat. I was yanked back by my hair, and I landed on my back on the ground.

All the air left me, and Arthur put his boot over my throat. "Not so fast, Your Majesty. I thought we had made it clear that we had to wait for all that."

William brandished the blade, and he sunk it into the side of my leg.

I yelped with pain, and my back arched off of the ground. I was nearly paralyzed now. When Arthur removed his boot from my neck, I still couldn't move, but I could breathe slightly easier. The blade felt like it had just been pulled from a fire. I felt hot, angry tears stream down my face.

"Sir!" said the butler who had given me my tea. "Reaver is near. He will arrive within minutes."

"Hold tight, Your Majesty, it shouldn't be very long now," William said, kneeling beside me, pushing a few stray hairs out of my face.

I spat violently at him.

Reaching down, he grabbed the handle of the dagger, and he twisted the blade in my wound.

The sensation was pure agony. I was screaming, and I couldn't form words. After a few moments, everything went black.

* * *

A blood-curdling scream bounced off of the hills and reached Reaver's ears. It was The Queen, and his heart curled into a painful knot. He bade his horse go faster, and he sped up the hill past the servants cottages.

The gate to the estate was wide open, and he immediately knew that somehow William was involved in Arthur's treachery. He cursed under his breath, and he drew his rifle from the holster on his back as he crossed into the Raynesworth estate. Everything was eerily empty.

He jumped off of his horse, ready to storm up the stairs and through the front door, but laughter interrupted him.

"Reaver!" Yelled a voice from the other side of the house. "We've been waiting for you! Don't make The Queen wait any longer!"

He drew his pistol, and he rushed around the large house, cutting through bushes and stomping through sloshy puddles of ice and dirt, not even concerned with ruining his expensive riding boots as he would have been on other occasions. He turned the corner, and he saw Arthur, William and Lady Raynesworth.

He drew closer, and he finally saw The Queen, sprawled on the ground, unmoving. His grip tightened on each of his weapons, and he pointed one at Arthur, and one at William.

Lady Raynesworth dropped to her knees, grabbing a knife from The Queen's leg, and she brought it to hang over her gut. "She's not dead yet, you bastard, so you'd better stop pointing those guns."

Reaver lowered the guns slightly, and he raised his eyebrows. "Arthur, may I ask why you are holding The Queen of Albion hostage?"

Arthur's resolve looked like it was fading. His cheeks reddened, and he was shaking now. "I-I just wanted out, Reaver...I couldn't face it...I...I"m sorry."

"Oh, stop your weeping and moaning," William snapped, drawing the missing Dragonstomper from his belt. "I don't need you anymore."

Arthur dropped to the ground, covering his head, and after a large bang, the Dragonstomper flew from William's hand. Arthur slid across the ground to grab the gun and toss it away from William or Lady Raynesworth's reach. Arthur had betrayed William, knowing that the battle was basically lost.

William brought his hand to his chest. It was barely a flesh wound. Reaver hadn't wanted to take his hand off, merely disarm him.

Reaver now had his rifle pointed at Lady Raynesworth and his pistol aimed at William. With a small, terse sigh, he said, "I do so love an elaborate plot, so enlighten me, Raynesworth."

"I am not a Raynesworth," William growled. "I'm _your_ bastard. You took my birth mother from me years ago."

Reaver let off another shot, and Lady Raynesworth slumped backward on to the ground with a new hole between her eyes. "And now I've taken your adoptive mother. What is this supposed to mean to me?"

William's eyes turned to angry little slits as he dropped to kneel beside the fallen noblewoman. He took her hands in his, and he started to weep.

Reaver started up the stairs toward them, but William moved quickly, and he had the dagger once more, raising it above his head.

* * *

Excruciating pain spread through me, and I woke with a gasp. My bleary vision showed me that the dagger was stuck between my ribs with William's hand around it.

"Drop it," commanded my brother's voice.

My eyes turned upward to see that Logan held William by his hair, his sword at his throat. I certainly hadn't expected him to be here.

"Nice of you to finally show up," Reaver muttered. "Don't kill that one, I rather think The Queen would like to have a nice talk with him before he meets his end."

I coughed as William withdrew the dagger, and I struggled to move a hand to cover the wound. My vision was clearing, but the pain was still severe. I struggled to keep hold of my consciousness.

"Master Reaver," Arthur squeaked. "Take my coat. Cover her."

Reaver snatched what was offered, and he commanded angrily, "Go fetch some proper bandages, boy."

"Yes...yessir." He was off in an instant.

"Take William inside, Logan, and find something to restrain him with," Reaver instructed, kneeling beside me. His eyes softened when they found mine.

"Come on, you little worm," Logan spat, pulling William to his feet and leading him inside.

I held a shaking hand up, and he took it, pressing my palm against his cheek. No words were spoken, no apologies made, but an understanding had built between us in those few moments. Whatever issue either of us had with the other could wait. His eyes surveyed my other wounds, and he tutted softly.

"I'm going to carry you inside," He told me, taking my hand and moving it to wrap my arm around his neck. He slid his arms beneath me, and he lifted me from the puddle of my blood on the ground.

I cried out as the wound on my side was jostled, and I buried my face against his shoulder.

We crossed the threshold, and Reaver laid me down on the sofa I had once sat on in the living-area.

"We need to make arrangements to move her somewhere else," Reaver said to Logan who was tying William down to a chair. He had knocked him unconscious. "Brightwall, perhaps. I own a house there."

"I'll be fine," I rasped, my breathing ragged. "Just give me a few moments."

"You're bleeding from three different wounds, my dear," Reaver informed me. "These wounds will not heal like your others."

I looked down. I could see a faint blue glow from each wound. That definitely was not normal, but it made sense. The wound was causing my Will to attack me.

Arthur reentered the room with bandages, clothes, and a basin of water. He looked bewildered and fearful, and he should.

"Logan, can you come tend to her? I'd like to have a little talk with Arthur, here," Reaver said, climbing to his feet, releasing my hand tenderly.

Logan hurried toward me, and he took Reaver's place at my side.

Reaver grabbed Arthur by the arm, and he yanked him back outside, pulling the door shut behind them.

"Lily," Logan sighed, moving my hand, seeing the wound. He tore my blouse open to reveal more of it. The wound was just above where my waist-cinch ended. He blotted at the wound, his eyes very serious.

"How did you know I was in danger?" I asked.

"Jasper," He explained. "He must have traveled through your sanctuary."

I nodded, wincing as he pressed a piece of bandage down onto the wound. He put my hand back over it, applying pressure.

He moved to the less serious injuries on my leg. He tended to them the same as he tended to my side. "You haven't been having a very good time of it lately, have you?"

I merely shook my head, now too exhausted to speak. I was drifting away into unconsciousness once more.

"Lily, stay with me," Logan said firmly. "Open your eyes."

I tried to fight it, but the darkness took me again.

**A/N: Just so you know, I'm already writing the next chapter, It may be posted tonight or tomorrow morning, so hold tight! As always, reviews are much appreciated!**


	14. Waking and Drifting

-Chapter Thirteen-

"Master Reaver, I'm sorry!" Arthur wept, falling to his knees before Reaver. He held up his hands. "Have mercy."

"You helped me, so I shall," Reaver replied.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

"I'm releasing you from your contract, Arthur," Reaver said. "You no longer have to fear losing your youth and vitality to me."

"Master Reaver, thank-"

He pressed his pistol against Arthur's forehead, and he pulled the trigger. The spray of Arthur's blood now stained his shirt and vest, and he grimaced, though he was sure some of the blood was The Queen's. That was also Arthur's fault. Wiping debris from his vest, he sent the toe of his boot into Arthur's ribs, and he spat on the body.

He leaned to pick up the spare Dragonstomper that lay among the carnage, and he reentered the house, seeing that The Queen had fallen unconscious. "I need you to ride ahead and seek an apothecary. The dwellers surely have one."

Logan stood. "I'm not leaving her with you."

"I am not requesting that you do this; I am telling you," Reaver said. "We can fight all day about this, but I am_ not _leaving her side."

Logan's jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, "What do you require?"

Reaver crossed to the desk, and he pulled a pen out of his pocket. He scrawled a list onto the paper, and he pressed it into Logan's hand. "I cannot express how important the magebane is. Purchase as much of it as the apothecary can give you."

"We will have our discussion when Lily has healed," Logan reminded him, snatching the paper and inspecting it. "I have not forgotten who is really at fault in these events."  
Reaver nodded, "Yes, yes. I am a very bad man, now hurry off. And take this." He put the bloody dagger in Logan's hand. "The further it is from her, the better."

* * *

As I faded in and out of sleep, I found that I had been moved. I awoke once in a carriage, the movement jostling my injuries, causing me to wake in pain, but my consciousness drifted away once more as I saw Reaver and Logan hover above me, both with worried expressions.

The next time I woke, I was in my own bed. The pain had decreased, but moving still proved difficult. I felt someone's hand laced in mine, and I glanced to see Logan sitting at my bedside, his head lolling as he slept. As I pulled my hand from his, he woke.

"Lily," he breathed a sigh of relief, a smile drifting across his scarred mouth.

"How long-?"

"A day and a half," Logan replied, adjusting himself in his chair. "It got worse before it got better, but you're finally healing."

I let my head fall back onto the pillow. I still felt drained and incredibly weak. "What has happened with William? And Arthur?"

"Arthur is dead," Logan told me, "but William lives. He waits in jail until you are well enough to make a decision of his future."  
I nodded softly.

Logan rose. "You must be terribly thirsty."

"Yes," my voice was little more than a croak.

He helped me into a sitting position, piling pillows to hold me upright. He leaned me against them, and I could see that the room was full of flowers and packages. I wondered how public my injury had become.

Logan returned to me with a glass of water, and he put it in my hands, keeping alert in case my strength waned.

I drained the glass quickly, and I handed it back to him. "Thank you."

He set it down on the bedside table, and he took his set next to me once more.

There were a few moments of silence between us, and he crossed his arms over his chest, obviously biting his tongue about something.

"What?" I asked, raising my eyebrows gently. I pulled the blankets up to my chin.

"Nothing," He lied.

"You're giving me the look you used to give me when I would sneak out of my room at night," I half-laughed.

"Well, I am just as disappointed with your choice of suitors now as I was then," Logan explained. "You truly have terrible taste in men, sister."

I heaved a breath, and the pain cut into my side once more. I didn't particularly feel like talking about Reaver or William at the moment. I remained silent.

"He has sent you some rather extravagant gifts," Logan continued, his eyes moving around the room.

I closed my eyes, feigning unconsciousness. My stomach gurgled hungrily.

I heard Logan sigh, obviously exasperated. "I know you're not asleep."

I opened an eye. He was still giving the disapproving look. He'd perfected it over the years. I opened my other eye, and I blinked. "I don't want to talk about Reaver. Not right now." I still wasn't sure what to think of all that had been revealed. Reaver was the same man that had been present through some of my father's most famous adventures. He was a great deal older than he appeared, and he remained that way through very dark magic.

"I can go," Logan offered.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You don't have to. I'm just...thinking."

"Well, I should go, anyway," He said. "Jasper is awaiting an update, and I'm sure you would like something to eat soon. I'll let the kitchen know." He leaned over to press a kiss against the top of my head.

"Logan," I said as he turned to walk away.

He glanced back at me.

"Thank you," I told him. "I would have died if you weren't there."

"It's my job to protect you, Lily," he said. "I fear that I wasn't very good at it until recently, though." He offered a crooked smile, and he left the room, leaving me with my thoughts.

I turned onto my uninjured side, and I glanced around the room again. There were flowers of all sorts and unopened packages. I gulped, my eyes filling with tears. I was so hurt and confused. On one hand, I was angry with Reaver for lying to me, for keeping this huge secret from me, but on the other hand, we hadn't been more than lovers. It wasn't exactly his responsibility to confide everything in me.

He'd cared enough for me to come after me when William struck, but I was still unsure of the extent of his feelings. Where was he now? I pulled another stray pillow toward me, wrapping my arms around it, and burying my face. Drawing back to breathe, I heard the door open. I wiped my tears hastily, wincing at the sudden movement of my body.

"Your Majesty," said Jasper's voice. He rounded the bed to face me, and he smiled. "It is such a relief to see you awake."

"I'm fine, Jasper," I assured him.

"For a while, you weren't," He told me, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're lucky to have pulled through."

I nodded softly.

"And might I say that Mister Reaver has sent an impressive amount of gifts, hasn't he?" Jasper noted.

I groaned.

"I take that as a sign you don't wish to talk about him," he said, a bit of humor lacing his words.

I nodded, pressing my lips into a tight line.

"Let me say, My Queen," Jasper requested. "When you were in danger, he was the one to spring to action first. He was the one who unraveled the plot. That counts for something."

Was Jasper really standing up for Reaver? That was something I definitely hadn't expected. I merely grunted in reply.

"Well," he said, "If you like, I can draft a letter to him, expressing your grunts and sour expression, as it's obviously your new preferred method of communication."

"No letters," I said. "Not yet." I definitely wasn't ready to speak to him. I wasn't sure what I would say. I wasn't even sure if I ever wanted to see him again, though the larger part of me ached at the thought.

There was a knock at the door, and Jasper rose to answer it.

A servant pushed a cart full of food into the room and the aroma filled my senses. My stomach jumped to attention, growling ferociously at me.

I struggled to push myself back into a sitting position once more, but Jasper hurried to assist me. I offered him a small smile of thanks.

"What would you like, Your Majesty?" He asked, lifting the cloche from over a plate full of eggs and bacon.

"Everything," I said eagerly.

"As you wish."

* * *

After fully stuffing myself, I drifted away for another nap, and when I woke, I felt infinitely better than I had earlier in the morning. I ran a hand across my side to find that it was still tender, but healed enough for me to attempt to get out of bed. I pushed my blankets down, and I inspected the cuts on my leg. They were healed, and they had scarred a bright white against the ivory of my skin. I ran my fingers across them. The scars prickled with discomfort, so I pushed my sleeping gown down over them once more.

I climbed from bed to relieve myself before walking slowly around the room. It felt nice to stretch my legs. They felt as though they desperately needed it. I inspected the flowers. There were roses, and lilies, and exotic blooms that even I had never seen before. They were all beautiful and all sent by the same person.

I walked to the bookshelf that held some of my favorite books, and I grabbed the worn copy of The Story of The Tattered Spire. I flipped to a text that I had deliberated over before, and I read it.

_The true identity of The Hero of Skill remains a mystery to all but those present at the events that led to the salvation of the people of Albion. The Hero King has, on numerous occasions, referred to him as a thief, a coward, and a traitor. _

_All that is known of him is that he was a vain, tempestuous man with a fascination with himself. He betrayed The Hero King on multiple occasions, and he disappeared shortly after the events at The Tattered Spire. _

I closed the book, and I pressed it to my chest. I knew those things to be true of Reaver, but was he truly the same man? It made sense, to be honest. Reaver had displayed so many of the qualities my father had attributed to The Pirate King of his legends. I accepted it as truth, but I still didn't rightly understand. As much as I hated to admit it, Reaver had saved me, and he did, in some way, care about me. Those issues would have to come under discussion sooner or later.

The door to my bedroom creaked.

"You're awake," said his voice, tinged with relief.

I turned.

He was more out of sorts than I had ever seen him. His coat was unbuttoned, and his shirt looked wrinkled. He removed his hat to reveal that his hair hadn't been tamed into a fashionable style, as it usually was. His eyes were ringed with the dark circles of insomnia. He combed a hand through his hair in an attempt to battle its unruliness. His eyes found the book in my arms, and he nodded, knowingly.

"I realize that I am probably the last person you want to see right now," He said. "But I had to see you."

He was right, and yet he was wrong. I couldn't bring myself to look at him anymore, but his presence relieved me in a way that I hadn't expected. I pushed my book back into his place on the shelf. I felt his hand on my shoulder, and my body tensed.

"Everything that William said was true," He said, his voice mingled with a sigh. "A very long time ago, I made a deal with some very bad creatures. In order for me to stay as I am, and in order to avoid death at those creature's hands, I must bring a sacrifice to them, annually. The sacrifice is drained of their youth and beauty."

I closed my eyes, a knot building in my stomach.

"I compensate them," He added, as if that made the revelation any less despicable. "A lot trade their lives willingly for gold."

I crossed my arms over my chest, and I felt his other hand on my waist. His touch was delicate, deliberately testing me. I remained still.

"I'm sorry that you had to pay the price for my sins," He said. He was sliding his hand around to wrap his arm around me. He pressed his chest against my back.

My body vibrated, at war with itself. I wanted to push him away, to punch him in the face, to pull the Dragonstomper from his pocket and hold it against his temple, but I needed him to hold me, to center my gravity with his.

His voice grew softer as his mouth drew closer to my ear, "You are the only person that has ever mattered enough to me to tell this to."

My resolve weakened, and I leaned against him.

He tightened his grip on me, and he placed a kiss on the side of my face. "I care more for you than I've ever cared for anyone or anything. It drives me crazy, Lilyana. I am not the type of man who simply..._cares_ for people. You've replaced my nightmares with dreams of you, and those are equally maddening. You have unbound my entire way of life and jumbled it all up. Don't you see that?"

I wasn't sure how much truth his words held, but I listened regardless.

He sighed. "I am not accustomed to making revelations of feelings, so anything you might say to reciprocate or reject them would be helpful."

I turned to face him and I found his eyes. He looked completely unguarded, vulnerable. It was an expression I had never expected to see on that beautiful face of his. I lowered my eyes, my hands wringing in front of me. "Reaver," My voice was weak and tight with my budding tears. "I..."

He cupped my face, bringing my gaze back to his. He wiped a falling tear away with his thumb, and he silently waited for me to finish.

"As much as I don't want to care about you, I do," I spat out all at once. I buried my face in his chest. It was cruel of my heart to want him this badly, this despicable immortal.

He held me against him, and I could hear the sigh of relief leave his lungs. "I was afraid you'd come to your senses and remember what a villain I am."

I did remember. That was what made all of it so painful. I was sure to lose friends, allies, and the faith of people just for loving him. I barely knew him, and what I knew of him was terrible and dark...but I loved him. I felt my energy and strength waning. My body ached in more than one way in his arms. My frustration was doubly compounded by the fact that he tenderly stroked my lower back while placing a kiss against my ear.

Reaver's arms unlocked from around me, and he took my hands. "Come, you need to lay down."

I followed him, and I slid into the bed, pulling the blankets on top of myself.

"I can return later," He offered, taking his hand from mine.

I grabbed him. "Please. Stay."

He settled down into the chair pulled up to the bed's side, and he scooted close to me, taking my hand in his.

"Sleep, dear one," He instructed me with a soft smile. "I will be here when you wake."

I closed my eyes, assured that he told the truth. I squeezed his hand, and I felt his mouth brush my knuckles. Falling asleep was simple once I convinced my body to stop reacting so acutely to his touch, but that took a while.

**A/N: Okay so I've managed to write a chapter without a huge cliffhanger, hehe. But stay tuned, I will be working much more today, and hopefully I will have another chapter done later! Don't forget to leave a review, I enjoy reading them!**


	15. Mercy

-Chapter Fourteen-

My eyes opened, and the first thing I saw was Reaver sleeping peacefully in the chair beside the bed. He was even more beautiful in sleep, if that was even possible. His lips were parted gently, and I watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He had removed his jacket and vest, as well as his shoes and socks, probably in an attempt to get comfortable. I sat up to find that the pain in my side was almost completely gone. It was no more than an uncomfortable twinge, now. I gently reached a hand forward and slid it stealthily over his heart. It beat just like any other man's—slowly, steadily.

I withdrew my hand, and I sighed. I wasn't sure what would happen next. He made it clear that he was invested in me, and I was more than invested in him. I wanted more than anything to be able to have him, but what would that entail? Would I have to sit by year by year as he gave sacrifices to whoever these creatures were? I would wither away while he remained young and handsome. Would he stay by my side until my natural life ended?

I looked to him once more. He looked so serene in this state. Completely unlike Reaver. Could I do this? Could I let myself love him fully and allow him to love me? I scooted toward the edge of the bed, and I swept a finger across the strong edge of his jaw as I let my other hand wander up his thigh.

He stirred, and his eyes opened slowly. His mouth turned up into his trademark smile, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him with a kiss. He cupped my face tenderly.

I deepened the kiss, sliding my arms around him the best I could at that distance. His hands moved up my legs, pushing my dressing gown up, running his thumb across the newly healed scars on my leg. He also used his hand to inspect the wound in my side, and when he found that it was sufficiently healed, he broke away from the kiss. He slid onto the bed next to me, overtaking my mouth without a word.

I leaned back into the pillows, and he followed, careful not to press his body too tightly against mine. His hand skimmed beneath my clothes to caress me gently all over. I parted my legs, and I moaned gently, arching my hips forward.

He backed away, "Though I admire your enthusiasm, love, I fear that I am not prepared for such..._activities_."

I raised a brow at him.

"Unless you would like a little prince or princess scampering about the palace, we will have to control ourselves," He told me with a soft smile. "I wasn't expecting you to be so...forgiving...or frisky." He glanced down, grinning. "But I think I can manage _something_ to alleviate your tension..."

He disappeared beneath the blankets without another word, and I gasped as he tugged my underthings down, his mouth finding me without hesitation.

I brought my hand to my mouth, chewing on the knuckle of a finger to stifle a long moan. My other hand tangled in his hair, desperately clutching him to me. I reached my end a lot faster than I usually would. My side throbbed in disapproval of my whole body tensing up then relaxing completely.

He reappeared, a haughty grin on his moist lips.

I heaved a breath, pushing my hair out of my face, and I closed my eyes for a moment.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, stretching to lay back on the bed beside me. He used his thumb to wipe his mouth delicately.

I offered him a smile. "Yes."

"Good, now I'd imagine since you are feeling better, we have a full day ahead of us," He said. "I'd recommend a public appearance some time this afternoon, after you've dealt with that bastard, William."

"_Your_ bastard William," I noted.

"Yes," He said, frowning. "Not that it makes a difference to me."

"What do you suggest we do?" I asked him, turning to rest my chin on his shoulder.

He glanced over to me. "Death would be too merciful for such a crime."

I raised my eyebrows. "How is death merciful?"

"It would be an end to his existence," He offered. "The end to his torment. Let him live, and he will rot the rest of his days in a cell."

My stomach turned at this conversation. I threw the blankets off. "I don't know Reaver, I need time to contemplate."

He stood from the bed, and he moved to draw the curtains on the doors leading to the balcony. The sun had just risen. He rubbed his back gently, probably working out a kink from sleeping in the chair all night. "This will be the greatest test of my will, you reailze?" He asked, looking at me over his shoulder.

What? Holding himself back from punishing William himself? Watching his bastard son rot in some prison somewhere? I tilted my head.

His face became very solemn, and he pushed the word out. "Monogamy." The word sounded like death in his voice.

I almost laughed, but I instead turned my face to bite my lip in amusement.

"Oh, don't think that I cannot see you over there, laughing at my expense," He snapped. "You try living as long and as freely as I have and suddenly wandering freely into a cage and closing the gate."

"Am I a cage to you?" I asked, my cheeks burning suddenly.

He rolled his eyes, and he turned to face me. "That's not what I intended you to take from that statement."

I pushed myself out of bed, and I tore off toward my wardrobe. I needed to find a suitable dress to wear that didn't require being squeezed into a corset or girdle. I found a flowy cream dress with a trailing blue sash and a small train. It was a little formal-looking, but it would be comfortable. I pulled it angrily out, and I laid it across the bed.

I felt Reaver's arms lock around me, and I tensed.

"You are not the cage, darling," He whispered. "Merely the bait." He trailed a small line of kisses across my neck.

I sighed, admitting defeat. "Help me get dressed."

"Yes, dear," He said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I smirked.

Reaver had managed to slip out of my room unseen before Jasper entered. He was surprised to see me fully dressed and fixing my hair into a loose up-do.

"I didn't expect you to be awake yet, Your Majesty," Jasper said. "I am glad to see that you feel well."

"There are things to be taken care of, today," I said, rising after putting the finishing touches on my hair. "Since I have been out of public view for a few days, I should make an appearance somewhere, to reassure people of my well-being."

"I heartily agree, Your Majesty," he said.

"And there is the matter of William Raynesworth...or whoever he is," I sighed. "Perhaps I should take care of that business first. Do the people know of what happened."

"No, Your Majesty," Jasper said. "We have kept matters very secret. The people believe that you have fallen ill. The carriage that was attacked didn't have you within, only William Raynesworth, who disappeared, apparently."

I nodded. "Good."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

I crossed toward Jasper, and I gave him a smile. "I really am alright."

"And have you spoken to Mister Reaver?" He asked, his eyebrows raising gently.

I nodded gently with a smile. "Yes."

"Good," Jasper replied. "I never much liked the fellow before, but I saw the look in his eyes when he came looking for you. He is good somewhere underneath all of...that."

I laughed. "Yes. He can be when he wants to be."

"Come, Your Majesty, I will have the cooks prepare breakfast," He said, leading me out of the bedroom.

* * *

At breakfast, Logan and Reaver both joined me, though that proved to be incredibly awkward. I wasn't sure what had been said between the two. He had only hinted at his knowledge of mine and Reaver's relationship the night before, but now, from the looks he gave Reaver, it was apparent that he knew the full extent of our attachment.

I poked at my eggs, suddenly not very hungry.

"Reaver," Logan said, his jaw clenched.

"Yes, Logan?" Reaver basically batted his eyelashes at my brother.

My stomach dropped. I wished that he wouldn't antagonize Logan. My brother didn't always have the best rein on his temper.

Logan pushed himself away from the table, and he stood. "May I speak with you privately?"

Reaver tossed his napkin onto the table, and he rose elegantly. "Why yes, of course, old friend."

Logan exited the room swiftly with Reaver following closely behind.

I waited until they were gone from the room before scrambling to my feet to follow. They stopped in the hallway, and I leaned against the edge of the doorway, out of sight.

"When I introduced you to my sister, what was the first thing that I requested of you?" Logan asked, his voice tight with anger.

"To be polite, if I recall correctly," Reaver said airily.

"I requested that you NEVER touch her," Logan corrected him. "I believe my exact words were 'If you so much as touch my sister, I will not hesitate to have you beheaded,' and from the way I see you look at her, it is clear you have done much more than just touch her."

I felt ill now, but I stood ready to intervene, if needed.

"Well, in all fairness Logan, I didn't do _all_ of the touching. She did-"

I heard the crunch of a fist colliding with flesh, and I jumped into the hallway to see Reaver laid out on the ground and Logan rubbing his knuckles tenderly.

I looked down to Reaver to see that his bloodied mouth was set into large, sharky grin. Laughter bubbled out of him, and he sat up energetically.

"That _was_ an astounding punch, Logan!" Reaver chuckled. "Your sister's is slightly more impressive, but I am glad to see that you have it in you."

Logan frowned deeply, looking up to me. "Are you sure that this is the type of man that you want? He is absolutely insane."

I had to hold my tongue, almost attacking him for Elliot's death, but I simply bent to help Reaver to his feet.

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't like this, but you are a grown woman...and I suppose if this is what you've chosen, who am I to try and persuade you otherwise?"

I offered him a smile. "There's still a chance that Reaver will lose his nerve and disappear off the face of Albion." I squeezed Reaver's hand playfully.

"One can only hope."

"I _am_ standing right here," Reaver said, sounding slightly dejected, but he then gave me a small smile.

* * *

Once Reaver's jaw had been properly iced and Logan had made peace with him, I called for William to be brought before me in the throne room.

He looked unlike he had before. The roundness of his face was now slightly drawn and more angular, having most likely been starved the past few days. He looked a lot more like his father, now. His shackles bound his arms behind his back. He glared at Reaver, who stood beside me.

"What is your real name?" Reaver asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Nathaniel Woods," He said. "My mother's name was Luna, but I doubt you remember her.."

Reaver's eyes lit with recognition, but he simply looked over to me before saying, "Nathaniel Woods, you have been found guilty of treason and the attempted murder of Lilyana, The Queen of Albion."  
The man's eyes turned to angry little slits, and he moved his stare to me.

"I hereby sentence you to life in prison, where you will be placed in solitary confinement," I said, holding myself straight. "No one will know about your little plot to kill me or the reasons for it."

William—Nathaniel didn't look at all pleased.

"The Queen is being very merciful, you should thank her for your life," Reaver instructed him, stepping down from my side to stand toe to toe. He looked down his nose at his son, and he raised his eyebrows. "Go on, boy."

Nathaniel ground his teeth together, and his eyes found mine. "Thank you, Your Majesty, for sparing my life. I am,_ indeed_, very grateful."

"Take him away," I instructed the guards, averting my eyes from him. I exhaled. "And leave us."

The guards carried Nathaniel away, but he yelled out, "He will never love you as much as he loves himself, Your Majesty." The doors closed loudly behind them.

I felt my face flush, and I stood. Had I done the right thing? Should I have just had him killed and be done with it? What was Reaver's real intention for wanting him alive? I started to pace across the throne room.

Reaver caught me, stopping me in my tracks.. "You handled that very well."

I glanced down to the ground

"I remember his mother," Reaver said, most likely trying to take my mind off of what Nathaniel's last words to me had been. "She was very beautiful, but she was also very naïve." He sighed. "She begged for me to let her give herself up for me. What could I do but grant her wish."

I flinched, not really wanting to hear the details of Reaver's arrangement. I was still trying to get used to the fact that I would be accessory to his evil deeds, simply by allowing them to happen each year. But if people volunteered themselves, it couldn't be all the bad, could it?

I looked over to him, folding my hands together. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Would you have him killed?" Reaver asked.

I shook my head. "No...Not even after all he did, I couldn't kill him out of vengeance."

Reaver wrapped an arm around me, drawing me close. "I realize that this fact has been established long ago, but you are a much better person than I."

I could only smile softly as he pressed a kiss against my forehead.

* * *

Reaver helped me out of the carriage, and he released me when I touched my feet down on the cobbled road of Bowerstone Market. People took pause, and bowed or curtsied as I passed. I smiled and waved.

Reaver walked beside me, his hands put casually into his pockets.

I smiled at him, and I moved closer, looping my arm in his.

He gave me a look of shock and amusement. "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but I don't think it's appropriate to treat a person in your employ in such a way. What would the people think?"

"Mister Reaver," I said, raising my eyebrows. "I am terribly sorry, and I meant no offense." I went to take my arm from his, but he tugged me back, his smirk unfurling.

"I never much cared for what the people think," Reaver came back. "And as far as treating employees appropriately, I'm hardly the shining example of that, now am I?"

"Well, consider yourself fired as soon as I find a suitable replacement," I said.

"You wound me, Your Majesty," He gasped dramatically. "What will I ever do?"

"Bask in the life of a wealthy aristocrat, as always," I told him.

People definitely noticed Reaver and myself, and the whispering started.

"You've done it, now, my dear," Reaver sighed. "I fear what people may say tomorrow."

"You? Fear what people say?"

"Oh, you're right," He said. "I really don't care, but you do, surely. You're the Queen, and I, according to the people, am the incarnate of all things evil and wicked. I deflower men's daughters and slay puppies."

"You slay puppies?" I asked.

"It was one time, and it wasn't on purpose," He said, tilting his chin upward, but the twinkle in his eye suggested that he was joking. "But that's not my point. You were testing the line when you took me as your adviser, but now taking me as your suitor..."

"Then we shall have to improve your image, Reaver," I said, looking up to him through my lashes. "Kiss babies, give your employees raises, whatever it takes."

His expression turned sour.

"Are you regretting confessing your feelings for me?"

"Slightly."

**A/N:More to come soon - and as always, love it or hate it please review!**


	16. Delay

-Chapter Fifteen-

"It's massive," Jasper said, his eyes wide.

"It looks so heavy," Bella noted, her voice trembling lightly.

"You couldn't possibly be able to..." Jasper trailed off. "Even with your strength..."

I stared down to the sparkling ring in the velvet box that had been delivered earlier in the day. The cushion-cut stone itself was nearly the same color as the dress Reaver had sent me for the party so many months ago. It was, indeed, very large, and it was surrounded by smaller, yet still impressively-sized diamonds.

"And the whores of Albion just cried out in anguish," murmured Logan, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shot him a look of disapproval.

"Oh, I'm sorry," He said. He pasted a smile on his face and straightened. "Oh, boy! My sister is going to marry someone who is most-likely a cesspool of sexually-transmitted disease!"

I nudged him in the ribs, and he grumbled about going off in search of a drink. I had, despite the chance of incurring the ire of my people, just appointed him as my newest adviser. I still hadn't heard any word on the people's opinion of it. I probably looked like I was making poor decisions all around. I sighed, once again inspecting the glittering cluster of stones.

Reaver entered the room, and he frowned when he saw I had already received the package. This was the first time I'd seen him in two days. He had been settling business in Millfields and Industrial. "I had _so_ wanted to be here when you opened it." He stepped closer. "So?"

I peered down into the box once more. "It's very...large."

"I thought it would be appropriate," He said, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear. "You must be used to receiving large things from me by now, dear." He plucked the ring from the cushion inside of the box, and he took my hand, sliding the massive thing onto my finger.

I looked down to it. It was beautiful and it glittered like mad. My heart fluttered, and a grin spread across my face.

"There," He said. "It looks lovely, and you look radiant."

Logan returned, his eyes shooting daggers at Reaver, and he took a sip of his drink.

"Master Logan," Jasper interjected. "Isn't it great to see your sister so happy again? She has been through a great deal in her life. A little happiness is well-deserved, is it not?"

Logan nodded begrudgingly as he tipped his drink all the way back.

"Well, may I be the first to congratulate you?" Jasper asked. He shook Reaver's hand and gave me a tight hug "Your father would be happy to see that you are happy, Your Majesty."

I highly doubted that my father would be anything but murderous to learn who his little girl was going to marry. I felt Reaver's hand slide to my lower back.

Reaver's face mirrored mine, undoubtedly knowing my thoughts.

"Your Majesty," Bella stated, coming into my study. "A Miss Page is here to see you."

I straightened, and I said, "Please send her in."

When Page entered the room, I saw that she was dressed, not in her normal attire, but a fine burgundy dress with shiny black boots. She smiled when she saw me. "It has been a long time, Your Majesty." She closed the door behind her.

I nodded. "It has."

"I'd heard that you were ill, and I hated the way that we parted last. I am sorry for the way I acted all those months ago," She sighed. "You were right to wait to rebuild. I...don't think I was truly convinced of the true danger we faced."

"It's fine, Page," I said. "I was never angry with you."

"I've heard some rumors floating around Industrial that you and Reaver are to be married," She said, her face taking on a serious look.

I stood, folding my hands behind my back. I wasn't sure how to handle this.

"Is it true?" She asked.

I nodded gently.

She shook her head, heaving a great sigh. "What has he done? What has he offered you to make him your consort?"  
"This isn't about business or politics," I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What kind of spell does he have you under, Lily?" She asked. "Have you gone blind?"

"He cares about me," I said.

She snorted with laughter.

"Is it so impossible that he might want to change?" I asked, the color rising to my cheeks.

"Lily, men like Reaver never change," She said. "They say they will, and they may seem like they are, but they really aren't. He will betray you. He will betray all of Albion, somehow."

I turned away from her.

"Why do you want him so badly?" She asked, stepping forward, her tone softer.

"Because he was the first person to make me feel anything since Elliot died," I said, my eyes turning to the ground. "I was numb...for so long, and here comes this man...and he's mysterious and handsome, evil and maddening, yet surprisingly tender and protective." I exhaled. "I don't expect you understand or even approve, Page. I just...I can't explain it."

I felt her hand on my shoulder. "I understand someone making you feel again."

I turned to face her, and I offered her a soft smile

She reached forward to wipe my eyes. "Is there any way I can talk you out of this?"

I laughed a little. "It wouldn't hurt to try."

Suddenly, she was leaning in, her lips touching to mine, and her hands cupping my face. She kissed me more tenderly than anyone ever had.

My heart jumped into my throat. I had never known that Page was interested in me like this. The kiss wasn't unpleasant, but I had never kissed a woman before. I hadn't realized how soft women were compared to men. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with surprise.

She drew away from the kiss with a sigh. "I doubt that'll make any difference, but there it is. On the table. Maybe if you knew how I felt about you, it might change your feelings about me...and about Reaver" She stroked my hair gently.

"Page, I-"

"It certainly changes _my _feelings about you, Page" said Reaver from the doorway, his mouth slightly agape.

Page's face reddened, and she released me. "It figures you would show up now."

I covered my mouth, my cheeks burning.

"I...will wait outside," Reaver said, backing out of the room and closing the door.

"I should go," Page said. "I am sorry, Lily. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be sorry," I interrupted her. "You're my friend, and I hope you always will be, but I do not have those kinds of feelings for you."

She nodded, a sardonic smile on her lips. "I know. It was worth a try."

"Please don't wait so long to see me again, Page," I requested. "And don't let Reaver give you too much trouble on the way out."

She laughed softly. "I will try to be okay with this...for you. Maybe you can do some good. Convince him to be more of a philanthropist or something insane like that."

"Thank you, Page... for taking this a lot better than I expected."  
She crossed her arms over her chest as she started toward the door. "You bring out the good in people, Lily. Maybe you can bring some good out in him."

She exited the room and Reaver entered.

"Well, my dear," He said, clearing his throat gently. "I didn't know that you hadn't given up other women."

I heaved a sigh. "I didn't know that she...was interested in me."

"Well, she has good taste," He said, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. "By the way, how did _she_ taste?" He pulled my body close, his hand on my lower back, as if preparing to dance.

I rolled my eyes at him. "It wasn't that kind of kiss, Reaver."

"Pity," He said, leaning forward, his smiling mouth was enticingly close to mine.

"Any particular reason for this visit?" I asked.

"I was hoping to write a letter."

I smirked. "Is that so?"

"A long, long, letter." He pressed a brief kiss against my mouth.

We hadn't had a chance to be alone in this sense since the morning I sentenced Nathaniel. Reaver had returned to Millfields that evening after our stroll through The Market, and I had been thoroughly busy catching up on matters that had been pushed aside during my illness. I drew away, breathless. "Here? Now?"

"Yes."

"After I finish what I'm doing, we could move to my bed-"

He put a finger over my lips, and replaced it quickly with his mouth.

I melted into him, but I managed to pull away. "Bedroom."

He breathed out loudly. "If you aren't there in five minutes, I will come after you, and I will take you wherever I find you, no matter who is present." He released me, pinching my rear before turning to exit the room.

I returned to my desk, pulled out one of the crumpled scraps, and I read it over. It was passable. Maybe I'd have someone else look over it and perhaps redraft it. Satisfied that I had gotten something done, I felt justified in abandoning my duty to slip away to the bedroom with Reaver. I folded the crumpled paper, and I cleared away the rejects.

* * *

Reaver was completely ready when I slid quietly into my room, having stationed Hobson at the end of the hallway. He was much more discreet about things of this nature, I had learned. Reaver had stripped off his clothing, and his impressive body was spread across the covers.

"I feel overdressed," I joked.

"As they say, follow your feelings," He said.

Luckily, I still hadn't chanced being squeezed into a corset yet. My dress was easy enough to remove, and I was left in my underthings, and they were much easier than my dress to strip off.

When I reached the bed, Reaver tugged me against him, his mouth greedily seizing mine. He rolled me onto my back, and he covered my body with his. He was even more ready than I had been able to see when I entered the room. He pressed the evidence of his enthusiasm against me.

I parted my thighs, and he climbed between them. I groaned in anticipation, reaching for a condom on the side of the bed where Reaver had been laying.

A swift series of knocks interrupted us.

"Your Majesty," said Hobson. "Master Logan is here, and he wishes to speak to you."

Reaver groaned quietly, rolling onto his back.

"Can he wait?"

"No," said Logan's voice through the door. "I can't wait."

I sat up, and I rose to pick up my underthings. "I will be out shortly. I need to finish dressing my wound."

"Yes, of course," He said. "I will meet you in the War Room."

I pulled on my clothes, and I turned back to look at Reaver. He looked thoroughly frustrated.

"Go, then, before I stop you," he sighed. "We can delay our little dalliance a while longer, I suppose."

"I will make this up to you later," I promised, hurrying over to kiss him softly on his forehead.

"Certainly," he said, waving his hand. "I'll just lay here until the blood returns to my brain."

* * *

Logan was standing over the map of Albion, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked up to me, and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, but I fear that the news I have is not good."

What more could possibly go wrong? I readied myself for it.

"Tension is increasing in Aurora," Logan said. "I've received word that a rebel group, opposed to foreign rule, has branched off, even able to control those lovely sand furies."

I had feared something like this might happen. Taking Aurora under Albion's protection may look a lot like invading foreign lands for its resources. I breathed for a moment. "Are they violent?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Logan continued. "They're supposedly led by someone who calls himself the Hero-King."

That sounded anything but promising.

"Kalin has sent word that he's claimed he will deal with no one but The Rebel Queen herself. She tried to negotiate with him personally, but she and her guard were attacked."

"Is Kalin safe?"

"She was injured, but just enough to send a message to you, sister. This man doesn't care about his people, just himself."

"So I'm to travel to Aurora, then," I said, tightening my hands into fists.  
"It appears so."

I was angry. Kalin had been attacked for no other reason than to get my attention. I stared down to the section of the map in question. "Then, I will leave as soon as I can. Please have the preparations made."

"Of course," He affirmed with a nod. "What would you have _me_ do?"

"You will have to stay here, Logan," I said. "You are not beloved with the Auroran people. You'll have a better chance convincing the people of Albion that there was reason for me to appoint you as my adviser."

He looked nervous. "Are you sure of this, Lilyana? It has barely been a year since they were clamoring for my head on a spike."

"Just don't become a tyrant in my absence," I teased him with a grin. "And all will be well."

He nodded solemnly.

* * *

When I reentered the bedroom a full hour and a half later, Reaver stood, half-dressed, making himself a drink. He turned to give me a softly aggravated look.

"You...are not going to like the news I am about to give you," I told him.

He popped the stopper back in the bottle, and he swirled his brandy in the snifter. "What? Are you pushing me to the side for someone else?" He looked dejected and thoroughly pathetic.

I took the brandy from him, and I took a sip. "I have to travel to Aurora as soon as possible."

"Oh, bother," He sighed. "It has to be you?"

I nodded.

"Well, I suppose I can take time off from work and accompany you," he offered. "I can arrange for someone to run my affairs in my absence."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"And miss the opportunity to take an exotic vacation with you, My Lady?" He polished off his brandy quickly.

"I wouldn't call this a vacation. There is a chance of rebellion."

"All the more fun. I haven't shot nearly enough people lately."

"We are trying to avoid shooting people," I informed him.

"If one has to 'try to avoid' shooting people, there is most definitely reason to shoot them in the first place," Reaver said, grinning. "But for you, my dear, I will restrain myself...with my firearms, of course." He set his glass down, and he reached out to stroke my face. "I fear I will probably never be able to restrain myself in other ways."

"There's no need," I told him. "Not right now, anyway." I reached out to stroke the lean sinew of his chest.

"The moment you get undressed, someone will surely come knocking at that door," He said with a soft laugh.

"They will wait," I said. "I've had all I can take for the day." My mouth replaced my hand on his chest as my fingers trailed further south.

"You haven't taken _everything_ yet, my love," He said, his voice taking on a more sultry note. He slid his arms around me, his hand working at undoing the buttons down the back of my dress.

**A/N: Okay, so I totally passed out last night before posting this, but here it is. I hope you enjoyed! I would also like to give angelacm a very large THANK YOU! (You know why ;D) Keep posting your reviews, I love reading them!**


	17. Fireworks

-Chapter Sixteen-

I wrung my gloved hands together, and I could feel the sweat on my brow. I dabbed gently at it with a handkerchief that I'd stashed away for just such a need. I paced back and forth across the room, and I heard a small laugh of amusement.

"And everyone thought that _I'd_ be crawling the walls about the engagement," said Reaver, stepping in front of me and blocking my path. He took my hands, and he offered me his dashing, irresistible smile. He was dressed perfectly in a sapphire coat that was a few shades darker than my dress and his top hat, minus his goggles.

"It's not the engagement," I said, breathing. "I hate making speeches."

"Then you were born into the wrong line of work, my dear," He said, still amused. He turned me to face away from him, and he moved the mass of curls that obscured my neck from him. He rubbed tenderly, leaning in to whisper. "Just imagine them all naked. It's what I do."

"You've seen just about everyone naked anyway," I quipped, leaning into his massage.

He said nothing, but I could basically feel the warmth of his smile. He pressed a kiss against my face.

"I can do this." I nodded. I would march out there, announce the engagement to Reaver, announce my "goodwill" trip to Aurora, and I'd be off the balcony and halfway down a bottle of brandy.

Logan entered the room, and exhaled loudly. "There are _a lot_ of people gathered for the announcement, Lilyana"

I covered my face. "I can't do this." I tore off from Reaver's grip, starting my loop around the room once more.

"You certainly have perfect timing, don't you?" Reaver asked, glaring at my brother.

"Lily," Logan sighed. He pulled me aside, and he gripped my face tightly. "You've faced bandits, balverines, and The Crawler, and you did it without fear. You can do this."

I nodded gently. "I'm ready."

* * *

"It is a good day in Albion," I said, looking over the sea of eager faces in the gardens in front of Bowerstone Castle. "It has been a long way for our people to come this far. The Bowerstone Old Quarter is well underway of its reconstruction, and the conditions under which our factories operate have improved dramatically. A new age is dawning on our beloved country, and I am so proud to be here to see it through." The easy part was through. Now I had to give this next piece of news and hope that the people didn't start rioting in the streets.

"My people, it is with a heart full of happiness that I officially announce my engagement to a man that has helped pull our country into a new era." The queasiness was setting in again. The people were already whispering, their eyes watching me with great interest. They wouldn't understand. How could they? They'd never seen the side of Reaver that I had. They'd never seen his drive or determination except in a negative light.

Reaver stepped forward, taking my hand and squeezing it.

I looked over to him and my anxiety slipped away. I was able to breathe again under the layers of fabric and underclothing. A broad smile crossed my lips as I announced his name, "Reaver."

There was a moment of pause in the crowd and a murmur before a reaction was given. It started as a single clap, but it soon spread through the crowd, and the people were suddenly cheering. I almost fainted with surprise.

"Long live The Queen!" Shouted a man, throwing a triumphant fist in the air.

The people in the crowd echoed the sentiments and it became a chant.

Reaver wrapped an arm around me, and he drew me against his hip, and he raised a hand to wave. I did the same.

"I'll handle the rest, my dear," Reaver said assuringly, too low for anyone to hear. When the cheering subsided, he raised his voice to speak. "In light of such happy news, Her Majesty Queen Lilyana and I would like to announce a voyage of goodwill to our neighbors across the sea in Aurora. Such a trip can only strengthen our relationship with our new allies."

There was more cheering, and I was infinitely more relieved.

"Good day, People of Albion," I announced. "And may the light shine always on our great nation!"  
The cheering erupted to a crescendo, and Reaver and I stood waving for a few more moments before we retreated back into the palace.

"You were exceptional," Reaver said, pulling me close against him and giving me a small kiss on my mouth.

"I'm surprised that they cheered," I said truthfully.

"To be honest, so am I." He smirked. "But with your smile alone, you could sell water to a drowning man." He traced my lips with his thumb.

I closed my eyes, and I let out a long breath. "I'm relieved it's over with."

"Well, I hear from a very reliable source that there will be champagne in the bedroom after dinner," He said, pushing my hair out of the way. "The balcony should give us a good view of the Fireworks that will be set off over the water."

"Fireworks?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Just a little something I arranged," He said. "The people will enjoy it, undoubtedly."

"Already buying your way into their hearts?" I laughed.

"The only heart I worry about is yours, pet, and we both know that I am secure in my place there." He placed a small kiss on my forehead.

The bastard was right.

* * *

The table at dinner was full of well-wishers. Business associates of Reaver's, nobles, and merchants. Ben, Sabine, Logan and Jasper were the people I considered "mine" at the celebratory dinner. A ball would be scheduled for after our return from Aurora, and I was actually looking forward to it. Reaver was absolutely rapt at the idea of planning it, so I let him handle the affair.

Logan stood, raising his glass, "When I introduced my business associate Reaver to my sister, I had been worried about her safety, and to be honest, her reputation..."

There was hushed laughter across the table.

"The last thing I expected was to one day accept him as a brother, but he has done more for my sister and for Albion than he would ever let me say. A toast to my sister, and her husband-to-be. May their years be filled with happiness and prosperity."

"Here, here!" concurred one of the older noblemen, and everyone echoed, raising their glasses of bubbling champagne.

"I didn't know you felt that way, Logan," said Reaver, grinning broadly, speaking only loud enough for those on our side of the table to hear. "Or can I call you brother now?"

Logan's face tensed, but he nodded, relenting. "You have been good to my sister, but remember what we discussed...if that ever changed..."

"I love families," Ben sighed, diffusing the situation, much to my relief. "Brings a tear to my eye to see such brotherly love." He mimed wiping his eyes, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

A giggle bubbled up out of me, and I bit my lip to keep it from turning into a full-on guffaw. I glanced to Logan, who was, surprisingly, smiling, stifling a laugh of his own, and when I looked to Reaver, I saw that he was eyeing me heatedly from across the table. I shot him a sultry smile, but I returned my attention to Ben.

"I knew there was something going on between you and Reaver," Ben said with a nod. "Are you sure he hasn't got a gun to your back?" He cocked a brow at me, but his eye twinkled with humor, still.

I shook my head. "He is a very complicated and, sometimes unscrupulous man, but he doesn't have to force women to want him."

Ben laughed. "If only I had that luck. Page still hasn't budged...as much as I flirt..."

I gulped slightly, and I smiled a little to him. "Maybe it's time to move on to someone else. There was a time when I wouldn't have said no to you, but I digress, many women would jump at the opportunity to be the bride of a man that fought valiantly in the rebellion."

"You see, when you say things like that, it makes me feel like a stupid, stupid man," Ben said with a blush, rubbing his chin. "But I guess that ship has sailed, huh?"

"Sailed and sunk," Reaver interjected, apparently having been listening in on our conversation. He glared at Ben for a moment before laughing.

Ben laughed, albeit a little nervously. "Yeah, of course."

I took a hefty sip from my glass, and I said, "So Page decided not to come?" I was very disappointed.

"She sends her best wishes, but she said that there was something very important that she had to do," Ben said.

I nodded. She was probably avoiding me because of the kiss. She had lain it all out on the table, and I had rejected her. I felt terrible about it, but I had never seen her as anything but a friend. Maybe one day, things could be as they were before I took the throne. She was the first female friend that I had that hadn't been chosen for me by my brother.

"So," Ben said. "Are you nervous about going back to Aurora?"

I nodded, deciding to be honest.

"I would be, too," He laughed.

"You're welcome to come," I said. "Wasn't it your intention to travel more?"

He smiled, but he shook his head. "I don't think we should tempt fate, Lily. Putting the two of us on the same boat has never ended well in the past."

I laughed, and I looked to see that Reaver had turned his attention to Sabine, who was listening intently, curling his mustache around a finger. I wondered what that was all about, but I would most likely hear about it later.

* * *

The night was cool and comfortable, and Reaver had planned everything down to the moment. He handed me a glass of champagne as joined me out on the balcony. A bright burst of light lit the sky, and I heard cheering from across the city. I took a sip, and I looked over to Reaver, smiling warmly.

"You look beautiful tonight," He said sliding an arm around me and pressing his mouth against my neck.

I set my champagne down on the railing to turn to face him, sliding my arms up around his neck. "When we first met, I would never have guessed it would turn out like this. I never thought that I'd attract your attention so...ardently."

"You were a challenge," He said. "That was what intrigued me, at first. Logan explicitly told me I couldn't have you, you told me I couldn't have you, and that made me want you like mad."

I laughed. "So I was a challenge? A puzzle to be solved?"

"It started that way, yes," He admitted. "But even after having you, I needed more. I craved your touch...I still do." He trailed his fingers across the bodice of my dress. "You make everything...go away." He closed his eyes. "You'll never know what a blessing that is."

I moved a hand to cup his face, stroking the fine stubble growing on his jaw.

"You are the only woman that has ever made me want more."

"I love you," I told him. He surely knew, but I had never said it in such plain words before, yet neither had he.

He smiled, opening his eyes. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

I glanced around, and I moved my hands further south. I let a smile worthy of my intent slide across my mouth as I turned him to lean against the rail of the balcony, and I unbuttoned him. Glancing up to him, I could see that his eyebrows had raised, and he was smirking to match me. I sank down in front of him. I took my lip between my teeth, and I raised my eyebrows, asking him a silent, 'Well?'

He sighed, "I love you, now stop teasing me."

**A/N: This will be the last chapter before the Epilogue of the story. *UPDATE* The sequel to this story, "The Bargain", is now published! Be sure to check it out to continue on the story after reading the Epilogue next. Reviews and favorites are appreciated!**


	18. Epilogue

-Epilogue-

The whole place smelled like filth, but he had gotten used to it in the past few weeks. It was his prize for simply trying to exact his revenge. His methods had been extreme, yes, but so were Reaver's. He stood from his place in the corner of the windowless cell, and he paced the short length of it.

His rage swelled inside of him. He'd lost two mothers to that man, now. He couldn't let it stand. He had to find a way to strike back at him. He'd heard a guard mention something about Reaver and the Queen announcing their engagement earlier in the day, and he spat in disgust.

The Queen was foolish, as his mother had been. He hadn't _wanted_ to kill her, but it was necessary. Reaver had to grieve as Nathaniel had grieved. He needed to pay.

"Who is he?" asked a woman's voice from down the hall. It was drawing closer.

He stopped his pacing, looking at the door and moving closer.

"No one really knows, ma'am," replied a man. "He's been down 'ere for a few weeks, but he doesn't talk to no one. It's a crime to talk to him, you know."

"What if I just happened to leave this gold in your hand, and you went off to buy yourself something nice with it?" The woman asked.

"I...I guess I could do that, ma'am."

"Good."

"He's very dangerous, that one, so's I hear."

"He won't hurt me."

"If you say so, lady."

The two were directly outside of the cell now.

"When I come back, he'd better be there." The guard warned her.

"He will be. I just want to talk, alright?"

"Okay..." The man's voice drifted down the hall. "Crazy woman..."

The small peephole near the top of the door opened, and Nathaniel pressed against the door. "Who's there?"

"That's not important," She said. "What is important is who you are. What's your name?"

"Nathaniel," he replied. "I didn't have a last name when I was born. But my mother's last name was Woods."

"Okay, Nathaniel, why are you here?"

"Oh, this and that," He said, running his hand over his growing beard.

"Could you be more specific?" She sounded impatient.

"I tried to destroy Reaver's life, but I failed." He said.

"How did you intend to do that?"

"I was going to kill The Queen and blame it on him. It would have worked, but I was allied with people less committed to the end result."

"Her illness...that was you?"

"Guilty...apparently." He laughed softly.

"I may be committed to bringing Reaver down, but not at the cost of innocent life."

"The Queen isn't innocent, my friend," Nathaniel barked. "She knows his crimes, and she still chooses him over others."

A pregnant silence filled the air.

"Well, you're not losing your courage now, are you?"  
"No...I just..." She heaved a large sigh. "I need to know more before I can commit."

"What do you want to know?" His heart was pounding in his chest. Could he possibly have a second chance?

"What do you know about Reaver's life before he opened the factories?"

Nathaniel merely smiled, and he laughed softly to himself. "Everything."

"Tell me," She demanded.

"Now, now," He said. "There's no need to demand anything of me. I will give you all you need to know, but our time is short. And his story is a long one."

"I can come back again soon."

"That will suffice." He said. "Now, go. And on your way to wherever you call home, stop by Industrial, and find the old fruit vendor's stall."

"I know it."

"There is a loose stone underneath it. In the far right corner. There is information, there, but not enough to get you what you need. For the rest, you have to come back to me."

"I will come back as soon as I am able, Nathaniel."

"I look forward to it."

The peephole closed, and Nathaniel could only grin as he heard her footsteps disappear down the hallway. He closed his eyes and slid down the length of the door. Perhaps this was his chance. Maybe he would finally see Reaver pay.

* * *

Her heart pounded as she pulled the cloak tighter over her face. What was she getting herself into. She had just committed treason by seeking out Nathaniel. She strode to the old stand he had spoken of, and she glanced both ways before ducking underneath.

She found the loose stone easily enough, and she used a blade to unwedge it from its place. Beneath it, she found a sack filled with books and papers. Replacing the stone quickly, she climbed from beneath the abandoned stand, and she held the bundle close to her chest. She would need to open this in private.

She hurried down to her house, across from the orphanage, and she hurried up the steps, throwing down the hood of her cloak.

"Oi Page!" said a man of no more than twenty. "Whatchu doing out so late at night by yourself? You could get hurt."

She turned, hiding the parcel behind her back. She offered a small, friendly smile. "I can take care of my self, Thomas."

"Alright," Thomas said, chuckling lightly. "See you 'round."

She nodded, "Goodbye."

Page entered her house swiftly, and she hurried to sit down on her chair. She opened the parcel, and she sifted through the loose paper. They were handwritten notes. A timeline. She would have to sort through that later. The first book she found was a familiar. One she'd salvaged from the waters when she was a child, though hers was missing a great deal of the pages. It was a copy of the tale of The Tattered Spire. The other of the three books was a story about Oakvale, and the third was another story about The Hero King.

None of it made sense to her, but Nathaniel had warned her that it wouldn't without his guidence. She opened the book about Oakvale, since it was one she'd never read before, and she started in, intent on finding the truth.

If there was a way to stop Reaver from becoming The Queen's consort, she had to find it. She couldn't let him destroy Albion...or The Queen.

**A/N: The sequel "The Bargain" is now available, so please continue on reading and enjoy the story as it continues to unfold! Though "Unbound" has seen its completion, I still appreciate your favorites and reviews, so please take a minute to leave me your thoughts!**


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